Someone Forgotten
by Mabelle-DC
Summary: A young Jason Todd forgot about his little sister a few days before Batman found him, how did he forget and how will he find her again? Tim, Damian, Dick in later chapters! And first 3 chapters are really bad, sorry about that!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so this is my very first fanfic, not entirely sure how it will go out...**

**Hope you like it? **

**Since it's my first story, reviews would be highly appreciated so I can improve in further chapters.**

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** Chapter 1**

"I'm not sure Jason; I really think that Bluejay suits you better." A young girl brushed a strand of hair away from her face; crouching low hugging her legs for warmth, huddled close to her twin brother crouched down next to her.

"That's a stupid code name, Rage is a name meant for men, and I'm twelve now. My name should reflect that, not some dumb bird's name." Jason lit up the last cigarette and gestured it towards his sister, who shook her head sideways. "Suit yourself."

"Well I was thinking Pinky Star for me." The girl rocked back and forth a bit, the old oak floors boards beneath her squeaking quietly from her shifting weight, she breathed in the smell of tobacco from her brother's cigarette; it was so warm.

"That'll only put a sign on your back saying you're up for prostitution. Pick another name."

The girl smirked slightly and eyed her brother, "Only if I can call your code name Bluejay."

"God dammit Kath everything about that damn name screams weakling." Jason hissed through his clenching teeth. She's been calling him Bluejay since he could remember. A stupid pet-name their father had said after hearing it for the first time. Jason would be lying if he said he never liked it, Kath surely knew that too or she would have stopped using it long ago. She used it most often whenever Jason was feeling down or hurt, she also used it in times of excitement, but finding something to become excited over was hard. "Think of something better."

"I don't see why we even need code names; we're only going to do petty crime. And if we had to choose code names, mine would Sunbird—"

"That's stupid too." Jason grunted.

"Bluejay and Sunbird" Katherine smiled warmly to herself. Their mother, Katherine Todd, had decided to name her daughter after herself. God only knows why she did that, but it always made Kath-his sister, more prone to being physically abused by their alcoholic loser of a father. Dad would come storming in the apartment shouting for his wife Katherine, who normally was passed out in the tub, without her response he would find another little Katherine in the bedroom corner and beat her instead. Jason was always beside her sister when Dad came in, and many times tried to direct the beatings to him by getting in the way or shouting. Sometimes it worked, but other times Father Dearest would just toss him to the side. Other nights they both would be beaten.

Jason rolled his eyes. Those had to be gayest names of all time- for crime anyways. One person simply did not name themselves after small puny birds and expect not to drawn more attention to themselves. Jason pulled his coat-collar up around his neck, to keep the draft coming from the broken window from going down his back. "You should put your hood up Kath – or Sunbird."

Katherine grinned sheepishly and tossed her jacket hood up, "So it's settled? Bluejay and Sunbird?"

"Tssh, I was only calling you what you wanted-" Jason squashed the bud of his cigarette into the floor, "—privately. In front of others I'll be Rage and you can Ravage, we can't go pretending to be chasing butterflies outside when really were stealing." He knew his sister was aware of this; it is Gotham by the way. Jason just did not know why she was so insistent about that name so much; could she be fooling around with him trying to get a reaction?

Trying to trick each other or to get the other twin to react to something small was the only form of 'sibling rivalry' they had… and Kath was smiling a lot…

Jason put an arm around his sister and pulled her closer. Her body relaxed as she leaned her cheek on her brother's shoulder. "Do you think we'll try Carl's Cornered Convenience shop first Bluejay? We've never liked that guy huh? Those dirty looks he gives us, they always make my stomach churn."

"Same," Jason rested his head atop his sister's, "What time is it?"

Katherine pulled out a hand watch from her pocket. "It's quarter to ten." Damn, that time was cutting it close; they made it a rule to always stay hidden after ten-thirty, whether it was outside in an alley behind crates or something, or inside the apartment. Staying in the apartment was becoming more risky though, Dad left the family almost two years ago, and Mum passed away from an over-dose three months ago. Rent hasn't been paid for five months, and technically neither of them was supposed to be in here. Jason nor Katherine wanted to be caught and put into foster care. "Wanna ditch this place and head to the cave? Maybe try out Carl's for some food?"

The cave, it's what they called it. Really it was a 'room' under Crime Ally in the sewer system, and became the new turf for the twins. After managing to lift the heavy metal circle that separated the twins from the safety of the sewers and the dangerous streets, they would climb down the ladder to be welcomed by a sick smell.

The feces from the wonderful bright city of Gotham's people.

The smell of home.

Both children had been surprised to find an entrance cut out from the concrete after walking in the sewers for a bit, it opened up to a small concrete room. It was pretty clean, some graffiti, but no garbage littering the floor. So they set up camp. They set up some blankets, a pillow and stashed what they found in the city along the left wall.

A stolen can food item that they could never manage to open.

"We don't have time for Carl's, but ya lets ditch this Popsicle stand." Jason got up and opened the window frame, "Careful of the glass."

"I know." Katherine climbed through the window after her brother onto the fire escape and began to climb down.

Having to jump the last three meters onto a dumpster, Jason landed roughly and slide off. His sister, a bit more graceful, swung onto the last step of the fire escape hanging there with her hands so her feet would be that much closer to the top of the dumpster. By a meter and thirty cementers closer actually, resulting in a not so harsh landing.

"Let's go." Jason gestured his sister to follow.

"WELL! What do we have here?" a rough voice stated.

Damn.

Jason spun around and grabbed his sister's hand to look at only shadows. Both on guard with body muscles tensed ready to bolt for it.

Three men emerged from the darkness. One man was grinning with rotten teeth, one with a twisted swollen face and the other flicking a pocket knife open and closed. They look to be in their forties, with rough scruffy beards, and tattoos littering their bodies.

"Looks like we have ourselves some runaway's Boss." Answered the one playing with the knife.

Think fast think fast think fast, dammit man think! "Actually we were just heading home." Stay cool Jason, they're just a bunch of low scum-bag losers.

"If I knew any better I'd say you little freaks got no home. Say, I have one for ya' the missy there, all you need to do is make some old lonely men a bit happier every night. Mama Berth pays well, feed ya' too." The middle man approached, "My names Pete, this ugly thing over here is Jud – he don't talk, and this knife idiot t'is called Frankie, but he prefers the name Frat."

"We love you offer Pete," Jason said, backing away "we really do, but we just don't like pedophiles and we believe in sex after marriage."

Kath squeezed his hand.

"Tsk now little babes," Pete took another step forward, "we really weren't askin', give us the girl kid and we'll let you go, so how about you hand 'er ov—"

Kath squeezed his hand twice, Jason returned it.

Run.

They booked it.

"CATCH T'EM BUGGERS!"

Holding hands they ran as fast as they could, Jason looked back and saw Pete, Jud and Frat in pursuit.

Kath whistled once. right ally.

More running.

Kath whistled twice. Turn left.

They slowed down in the ally and turned behind them, no one was there.

"We out ran them." Jason wheezed, catching his breath. Glancing at his sister he saw her leaning over catching her breath too.

"Ya, did you see how fat that one guy was?" she grinned, standing up.

"Ha, ya." Jay returned a smile, "you alright?"

"Ya, maybe we should just hang around here for the night, I see some crates right over there." Katherine pointed headed of here.

"Sure thing."

Jason glanced behind him and large hands wrapped around his neck and lifted him up high, "You little bitches! Think you can out run me?! I'll teach you little runts your place! Jud grab the girl."

"Let him go you bastards! He can't breathe!" Kath started forwards toward her brother, but she was intercepted by Jud who picked her and threw her over her shoulders.

Jason squirmed and kicked around struggling for air, tossing his arms around trying to punch his opponent.

"Pete just knock his head on the ground, we don't need him, Berth don't wanted no more boys. More trouble then they're worth she said, 'member?" Frat spoke.

With that, Pete smashed Jason head into the cold hard concrete.

"JASON!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this chapter is considerably shorter than the last one...**

**I guess i'll be updating sooner with shorter chapters (this is as short as it's ever going to get though!) ****opposed to taking two weeks to update with one mega huge chapter.**

**Anyways this chapter really sucks, but i promise the next chapters all a lot better! (That's just my opinion anyways) **

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**Chapter 2 **

Another cold night in Gotham, damn it always cold.

Jason shivered and opened his eyes, where in seven hells was he? He had never seen it so dark before, there was always some kind of flickering of lights from old street lamps lining up the sidewalks. This didn't even compare from when good old Dad locked him in a closest for two days, the closet was nothing to this.

And what the heck was he sitting on?

Some sick joke of a pillow? It felt like piles of cans, and paper, to the touch it felt like it was covered in a glossy blanket… and that smell…

_Oh my god am I in a garbage bin?_

This was new.

Jason lifted his hands up against the lid and lifted it up, and peered out into the street. Nothing looked abnormal; graffiti, shitty lights, liter, the eerie feel… and that hobo sleeping against the outside wall of Jason's apartment.

Nothing was out of place.

Jason vaulted out of the bin and began to stroll down the alley, cautiously of course. How on Superman's chin did he end up here?

He walked passed some other losers, two really. Two women, wearing thick cheap make-up and buried in sweat pants and hoodies. Jason would be willing to bet his life they were wearing skimping 'tops' and fish-nets underneath. Maybe even a mini-skirt. Modesty and all.

He turned the corner and saw Barry's Diner. Maybe he could grab some unwanted leftovers? The door opened and the bell chimed, from behind the counter an older man and young woman looked up.

"Jason!" The man cheered, raising his hands up high, "I was wondering when I'd see my favourite tramp again!"

"Don't get too excited Barry, you might give yourself a heart attack." Jason said callously, sliding atop on one of the bar stools. He looked around and saw no one else was in, not so good.

The calm before the storm, as they say.

"Babe go get our friend here some scraps," Barry gestured with his hand to the woman, named Jill. Jason has known Jill for as long as he could remember; both Barry and Jill really. But he had never known Jill to talk, not one word. Apparently she was Barry's daughter, she looked like it too. However Jason suspected she provided more than daughterly needs to her father.

If you know what I mean.

It was gross, even the thought of it. Disgusting, revolting, appalling. But hey, it's Gotham, what are you going to do about it?

"How's Katherine eh?" Barry asked, pouring a cup of coffee for his young guest.

Jason eyed Barry suspiciously, "Ermmm…fine." Did he not know that his mother was dead yet? _I'm sure I told the bastard she is…_ Whatever, Jason didn't want to deal with spreading around the news of his mother's death again. Jason accepted the mug of coffee and sipped it.

Idiot didn't put sugar in it. Cheap.

Jill came back out from the kitchen carrying a plate of pancakes, three-quarters of different pancakes that is. She placed it in front of Jason who began eating vigorously. Barry grunted.

There was nothing like having cold greasy pancakes during midnight after being date-raped by god who knows. At least that's what Jason thought had happened. It made sense, loss of memory, sore lower-area…

Jason couldn't really bitch; he lost that right after the first time, because this time he should have known better. One must learn from their mistakes etc, as his Mom once said. He just had no idea how some slimy scums-bags got to him again and what drug they actually used. Last time he at least had some memory leading up to the moment when he ran into them all.

"So what's wrong with your head?"

Jason raised an eyebrow at that, "My head?"

"Ya kid; you got all dried blood in your hair. You must have some nasty cut under it all."

Come again?

Jason lifted his hand to his head and grasped it. Fuck that hurt! He pulled his hand away, where the fuck did that come from? "I have no idea what that came from." Jason said bluntly looking at Barry and then resumed eating his pancakes. He could deal with it. He was a man. He had this.

Barry grunted again and walked away.

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**Two weeks later**

It never occurred to Jason that finding somewhere to shower would be so difficult. He never thought about showering after his Mother died, he just didn't care. But having dried blood in his hair? It was one unsanitary step too far.

Jason had standards.

So far, he hadn't managed to shower. However he did pick out quite a lot of the dried blood, it was like a scab in that way. He wasn't about to go stand out in the rain either to rinse the rest off, Jason was never too keen on catching colds. Having dried blood in your hair was a heck a lot better than a cold.

Therefore today, Jason man'd up even more and decided to keep the blood in his hair as long as possible. It might come off as the message to be feared, to be taken more seriously than your average kid –

-Man.

Over the past two weeks, Jason started his own business. Taking anything that was left unattended and meeting up with his new pal Jerome by the docks.

His new 'connection'.

Jerome was an approachable character, but to any non-Gothamite he would be deemed 'shady'. Jerome's physical self was lanky, that old-school-nerd-in-class-turned-drug-dealer type of guy. He always wore his trench coat, wore his baseball cap the right way and always had a smoke in hand. Jerome deals with all sorts of shit, anything worth something, and that's where Jason came in.

Jason would take and give it to Jerome; in turn Jerome would give him ten percent of the objects value. Yes it was a rip-off, Jason knew that, but it was good enough for now till Jason took control of the operation.

Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or next week, but some day, Jason would show them and rise up to become the 'big guy' and he'll get to rip everyone off.

The circle of life.

Jason was rolling two tires, one on each side of him with a good momentum so that he was jogging to keep up with them. Jerome hinted about stealing tires, at least that's how Jason took Jerome's 'words of wisdom'. Jason was heading down to the docks—well, the warehouses border lining the docks. It was still just as dangerous.

Jason jogged along the different warehouses, _warehouse #213, warehouse #213, warehouse #213…_

#210…

#211…

#212…

#213 there! Jason turned around the corner and headed towards the back of the warehouse to the designated meeting spot. And there Jerome was, head tilted down and cap shading his eyes from the warehouse light above him, he was alone as promised.

Not that promises meant anything in Gotham, but it was part of the deal.

Not that deals meant anything much either.

Jason ran up to Jerome and skidded to a halt knocking down the tires to the ground. Jason studied him for a moment seeing that Jerome was remaining silent; he didn't even move a muscle. Jerome got a new coat, still a trench coat, but new.

"Hey, " Jason announced himself.

Jerome signed, "In what universe does 'go take cars' mean to take the car tires?"

…

That is definitely not what Jerome said last time.

"If you wanted me to hotwire cars, you should've said it straight out, not hinting it. Now this is what I got for ya so I want my ten percent."

"I'll give you five, these aren't even good tires, the grip on 'em is wore. Don't bitch Jace, you'll take what I give you." Jerome dug his hand into one of his inside coat pockets and took out a wad of cash and began skimming through it and pulled out five one dollar bills. "Don't spend it all in one place kid." He said handing Jason the money.

"What the hell dude, this is nothing! How do you expect me to buy food with five bucks for a whole week?"

"I don't care kid, give me something better next time." Jerome picked up the tires and shuffled them through the warehouse door behind them, "now I suggest you scram 'cause my next customers are some big fish, and I'll bet a thousand bucks they like little boys. So go home."

Jason's blood rush to face and clenched his right hand, this was so not fucking fair. He shoved his money into his left pocket and stomped away. So not fair, it took him two hours to scout out a good car to take from, and another half an hour to actually take the tires. Well two tires.

Maybe if he became Jewish? He could handle deals better, get more money.

If he had money it would solve everything wrong with his life. He could buy a nice apartment, eat out with some ladies, and smoke 12 cigarettes a day if he wanted. Maybe buy some marijuana and see what that shit was all about.

Sure, he could get it if he wanted, but he thought it was smart not too. Just in case he liked it too much and became one of those bums who would do anything to get some. Well, if he became the actual dealer he get all he wanted and be able to play it cool, like a man and not some beggar.

Jason kicked up some dirt along the path, one day, one day he'll show them all, all those cheap losers who ripped everyone off. He'll make them pay for the shit they've done.

Walking along the sidewalk now Jason pulled his hood up to hide his face, it was better to look small and sketchy than small and child-like. It would take a while to get home, good old Crime Ally kind of home. Each block Jason walked became a little darker and more dangerous. Glancing across the street into an alley adjacent to him he saw men around a garbage-bin fire, warming their hands. That looked nice.

The fire, not the men.

Jason continued walking, he saw his apartment. What and old tired building, ugly inside and out. Jason stopped beneath a flickering street light and looked up to watch. It would go out any second and die like the rest of this shit-hole was.

As predicted, it went out, and Jason saw the most amazing thing in his entire life illuminated against the gray clouds of Gotham's sky.

The bat symbol.

"Whoa."

The awe of it, something so…damn it was something else. There was true power, control, fear and Batman…whatever he was, vampire, human, demon…he had it.

He had it by the balls.

Jason stood there for some time, staring at it, before he walked into the alley and began to climb the fire escape, rarely taking his eyes of the symbol.

He passed his apartment window and continued climbing right up to the roof. He was that much closer to it, that that fear, power and control. Jason laid down on his back and looked at it. The asphalt on the roof wasn't comfortable, not at all, but Jason didn't even notice, that or he didn't care. He wondered how much longer it would there for; he hoped it wouldn't go out soon. How many criminals and lowlifes were seeking out cover now with that in the sky?

Damn it was beautiful.

_One day, I'll have the power that strikes fear into people everywhere, that'll be me. I'll send grown men away with their tails between then legs cowering into the very shadows they call home. Only it wouldn't be home, because I'll be there to torture them some more. They'll pay. _

One day.

Jason closed his eyes, he was tired, and falling asleep the bat symbol was sure to give your subconscious a sense of safety, right? Some reassurance. Dream on Jason, you'll have a great dream tonight.

_Jason walked into his apartment, his mom and dad was there. Mom was making pancakes in the kitchen and dad was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. Everything was clean, nice furniture and sunshine coming in from the windows. _

_"Hiya son," his dad said looking up from his paper, "how was school?" his father smiled at him, and sipped his coffee next to him. "Your mother is making some lunch for us. You got the bacon on right honey?" His looked over to his wife._

_"Yes dear," she smiled brightly flipping the pancakes in the pan like a pro, "Oh honey I almost forgot to mention that the mail came today and I think your Christmas bonus is it! Working at the bank sure is lovely isn't it?"_

_Jason father got up and reached for the mail on the kitchen counter, "Why yes it is dear, kiss me." And Katherine pecked him lightly on the cheek and continues to work on lunch; his father began to flip through the mail. "Here son, come sit next me." He said patting the chair next to him._

_Jason slugged his backpack off of him and hung it in the closet and shuffled his feet over to sit next to his old man. This was odd._

_"Oh Jason, don't trudge your feet on the floor, you'll put holes in your socks." His mother explained, sliding the bacon off onto a serving plate. "Here baby why don't you help me by setting the table for us?" _

_Something seemed off, but Jason did as he was told and arranged the plates and cutlery on the table and sat down. His mother happily placed the sizzling bacon in the middle of the table, and placed the piles of pancake next to it. _

_"This smells wonderful honey, great job!" His father said, placing his newspaper down next him._

_"Thank you, I was trying out a new recipe for pancakes I learnt on my cooking show I watched this morning. Cook Margaret sure knows what she's talking about!" His mother sat down next to him and placed some bacon from the plate onto his plate, "eat up baby, you're a growing boy now."_

_Jason dug in, damn this was good food._

_After a wonderful meal Jason's father stood up, "here honey let me do the dishes tonight, you did such a brilliant job cooking all of this, and I look forward to our next lunch together as a family."_

_Katherine wiped her mouth with a napkin and set it down next to her, "Thank you honey! I'm sure glad I married the right man!" _

_His father chuckled._

_"Jason baby why don't you go get ready for bed? I washed your sheet today so they'll be all nice and fresh for you tonight. Don't forget you have a big football game tomorrow and you'll need all your rest." His mother handed the rest of the plates to her husband, who smiled at her. _

_"Ermm…sure Mom." Jason got up and headed to his room; he opened the door and saw nothing but football posters. _When did I start liking football? _He changed into his pajamas with mini footballs on them and got into bed._

_He began to hear rising voices coming from the kitchen. Jason got up a listened through the door._

_"What you mean you have to leave Willis? What about your job with Harvey Dent?" His mother was crying._

_Jason heard a fist punch a wall, "Its complicated Katherine," his father hissed, "I don't want to go, honest I don't, but I have to. The sooner you accept the easier it'll be for you." His father harsh tone did not falter. _

_"You lying! You do want to leave us! What about Jason, this isn't fair for him!" His mother continued to cry."_

_"Look Kath, I don't give two fucks what you do with that kid, kick him out for all I care and support yourself. I'm out of here." The door slammed closed and became quiet, except for his mother's sobbing. Jason opened his bedroom door slowly and peered out into the hallway, and just like that he was teleported to home, his real home._

_The faded paint on the wall, parts of the wall's plaster missing, old shitty floors, and that smell. That musky smell of cigarette smoke that clung to everything. Cocaine._

_Jason made his way down the hallway slowly, "Mom? Is everything okay…?"_

_Jason entered the kitchen. An ugly kitchen at that; there was missing cabinet doors, and the ones that were left hung by a thread. The counter was slimy, and the fridge door hung open. Jason shut it and made his way into the living room._

_His mother was sitting up against the wall with her head hanging in-between her legs. "Mom are you ok?" Jason made his way towards his mother and lead next to her. Then that's when he saw it, there were needles next to her and plastic bags full of shitty drugs. "Mom no…" Jason grabbed hold of her and checked her vital signs._

_There was none._

_Tears ran down his face, "How could you do this?! MOM!"_

Jason woke up with a start; he was sweating so much his clothes were damp. The wind cut through him and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself to keep warm. His cheeks were wet and flushed red. "Mom…I miss you…"

Jason looked up to the sky and the bat symbol was gone. He stood up and walked in circles, his heart was still pounding. His dad left him, he left both of them to support himself, he had enough of taking care of his drug craving wife and good-for-nothing son. His mom left him too, she'd gave up on everything, gave up on Jason, she didn't care for him. If she did care about her son she would never had overdosed! She would have become clean!

A single tear ran down his face.

Enough of this shit, time to man up. Jason ran his hand across his cheek to rid of the tear, and put his hood up again and straightened up. He was a man now, men don't cry over death and abandonment.

Jason climbed down the fire escape to his window. He peered in to see if the apartment had any new tenants.

It didn't. He pushed up the window and paused. Something seemed off. He looked down into the alley way and the hobo was gone, and in the hobo's place was the most beautiful car Jason ever laid eyes on.

"Holy smokes…" What kind of idiot left a car like that in crime alley?

_Unattended? _

Jason swung down the fire escape and landed by the car. The sleek black car. Jason circled around it and stopped at the front of the car.

Oh. My. God.

This was the fucking bat mobile! The bat symbol was on the hood of the car, a dark shade of gray. One shade darker on it might as well be black. Jason quickly circled the car again, then twice more. This was insane. He stopped at the tires.

Those were damn nice good tires. He may not have the skills the hotwire this car, it showed no car handles to actually break into—but Jason sure had the skills to take those tires.

Jerome would have to pay a good price for the god damn batman's tires! It was time to get to work. Jason grabbed his tools hidden beneath the dumpster and set to work. Those tires man. The car its self-looked impenetrable, all but those tires. Shit you think Batman would guard them up a bit more?

No one would believe this. Jerome wouldn't either, not till Jason showed him the bat symbol in the center of the tires that is. Jason dragged the first tire and put it under the dumpster. Damn this thing was heavy. These babies would have to wait under here for the week though, till Jason got to meet up with Jerome again.

He would only bring one though to the meeting, get all the money first then give Jerome the rest. With items like these, one had to have insurance.

Jason popped off the second tire; he wasn't going to stop at two this time. Taking tires off the bat mobile was a one-time gig. He was going to get them all. Of course he would have to hang around this dumpster all week, to make sure no one accidentally look underneath it.

That would be fun…

Jason slide some concrete blocks in place of where the tires should be, he didn't want to car to start tipping over while he worked. Jason placed himself in front of the third tire and began to work his magic. Damn Batman was dumb.

"No way…" A voice spoke.

Shit, Jason stood up with his crowbar in hand. No bastard was going to take these tires away from him. He looked at his opponent and all color drained from his face.

It was the goddamn Batman.


	3. Chapter 3

**So this chapter is considerably longer then the last two,**

**I also like to think it's better than the last two too, but whoever reads this might beg to differ...**

**So enjoy!**

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The Batman.

Was standing.

Only a few feet.

Away.

The goddamn Batman!

Was standing.

Only a few feet.

Away.

_From me! Jason Todd! A good for nothing street kid! This is amazing!_

Batman looked shocked, and as if he read Jason's mind, he quickly hid his expression to his iconic bat glare. But Jason saw it, that surprise, he surprised Batman!

Batman!

Of all people!

Now no one would believe this no matter what proof Jason had to show for it! Jason could not even cower away from his glare as he heard many grown men do, it was too amazing! He surprised Batman!

Batman narrowed his eyes, "What are you doing to my car?" he asked.

Jason looked down at the concrete blocks he substituted in the tires place. He could try to get out of this, make up some lie so he wouldn't end up in court. It wouldn't be the first lie he told to get out of the shit the world through his way. Jason would even call himself somewhat of a professional when it came to lying.

Or he could have some fun by making up a ridiculously story, he was fucked anyways, it's not like he could say the tires just fell off.

"Well I was just walking by…" Keep your voice strong Jason, don't coward away. Sheesh it's only Batman. "and I saw your car, then I saw the state of these tires. I thought 'Hey! Those tires really need an update!', so I started to replace with these really sturdy concrete blocks, you'll never have to worry about another flat tire again!" Jason looked Batman right in the eye—white lenses, "I was really doing you a favour, and you should be thanking me." Jason said with triumph, places his hands on his hips and raising his head up.

It was a hero's pose.

Batman did not look amused. Within a blink of an eye Batman was holding Jason by his coat collar with one hand, holding him at arm's length. "Where did you put my tires?" Batman demanded in a harsh tone, he didn't like to be fooled around with by a ten year old.

But Batman's tone didn't falter Jason's poker-face as he stared down onto Batman. Jason wouldn't coward away from the Batman, Jason will win this stupid staring match. He only participated in one billion staring contests in the school playground when he actually attended, what difference would it make if his opponent was Batman?

Batman signed mentally, this was one stubborn kid who probably couldn't even comprehend who he was trying to stare down. And he was Batman after all. "I'll repeat myself one more time, maybe a bit more clearly." Batman pulled Jason closer to his face, trying to add to his fear affect, "Where. Did. You. Put. My. Tires?"

But Jason only smirked, "why I have no idea what you are talking about! May you please describe what these tires look like to me?"

This was so awesome.

"Listen Boy." Batman's voice went an octave lower, "I don't have time for games. Tell me where you put the tires and I won't send you to the foster system."

Annndd Shit. With that Jason's poker face did falter, and flooded with anxiety before Jason could get a hold of his emotions. On top of that Jason's heart beat picked up a bit, and his eyes started to dart around the alley, finally resting on the garbage dumpster. Batman didn't miss it and Jason didn't miss the fact the Batman saw where his eyes had landed, "I—"

Batman dropped Jason and stalked over the dumpster, crouched down and looked underneath it and pulled out two tires easily.

"—Hrmph." Jason landed on his butt, "Hey what was that for?" Jason exclaimed, standing up and dusting the dirt of his pants. Whoever would have thought Batman would be so rude? Sure, it was obvious he was fear itself, but rude? Someone should be getting off their high horse.

Batman stalked back over to him and placed a tire down in front of Jason, "You're going to help me put these back on."

"What you don't like my concrete blocks?" Jason said insulted, raising his hand to his mouth pretending to be shocked, "I'm not sure Batman…the blocks are such a lovely shade of gray it complements the car so nicely." A sly smiled then played on Jason's lips.

Batman only grunted, "get to work." Before kneeling down and starting pulling the blocks away.

Jason picked up his tools, "Suit youself, I'll just have to give these blocks to someone else then." Jason shrug and sat down in front of his concrete blocks he'll would be replacing. "I'd start working now…as you suggested, but I'm worried if I pull these blocks away from my tire the car will tip and cripple you, and we wouldn't want that now?" Jason grinned and leaned back relaxed, flipping the crow bar in the air. "Who else would be able to put the almighty scum of Gotham in jail? The police force? I wouldn't bet my life."

Batman only grunted again, "It'll be fine."

Jason glanced sideways at Batman; he didn't look like a demon. Batman being a vampire continued to gain a higher and higher chance. He did have the whole bat symbol going on, and wasn't there a bat called 'vampire-bats'? He dressed similar to a vampire too, wore a black cape, that was a sure sign wasn't it?

"Are you a vampire?" Jason enquired.

"No."

"A demon?"

"No."

"Zombie?"

"No."

"A robot? Ghost? Clone? Alien? Maniac?" Jason said all rather quickly.

"No, no, no, no and the last can be a debated."

Jason smirked and shuffled a little closer to where Batman was working, "You know, you should probably guard up these tires a bit more. Make 'em less 'take-me-off-like-a-normal-tire' kind of tire." Jason said seeing Batman frowned a little. Batman turned the last screw into place before standing up and moving on to the next tire. Jason followed him.

"What's your name kid?"

"Paul." Jason said coolly. Better be put into foster care system with a fake name then a real one. It was harder for them to track you down with a fake name after you ran away, not like they tried to find runaways often. "Paul Thompson." Jason continued to flip his crowbar, "Paul Maurice Jean Thompson the Fifth, to be precise."

Ok, so maybe he was playing up his fake name a little too much….so sue him.

"So _Paul_, where are your parents?"

This guy was asking a lot of questions; Jason didn't like it at all. "Ooohhh you know, there off and about doing adult things and being reasonably responsible."

"I know how to catch a lie _Paul_, there is no point in lying to me. And you might as well tell me your real name while you're at it."

So maybe Jason wasn't as good of a lair as he thought, and or Batman was just really good at catching them. "My name is Jason Todd." Jason saw Batman nod, "and my parents are dead, big surprise huh?" Jason spoke sarcastically looking up to the sky trying to avoid eye contact with Batman.

"And you live where?"

Jason flinched slightly, he hated that question.

"On the streets." Jason looked away, now fearing about being judged. He hated it when people found out where that he lived on the streets. Everyone always automatically assumed scenarios that Jason might have participated in. Stuff like drugs, child prostitution and theft.

Jason couldn't lie to himself, he might never of done drugs –not yet anyways—but he had stolen, and participated in child prostitution a couple of times. It was only for money, he swears, he did out of the good of his heart to make money for his mom, to be able to afford her medication. When he was stealing, it was only really food that he stole, apart from the tires…but a man's got to eat you know?

It wasn't fair, and after every time someone found out, they would give him a dirty look or worse, a hungry look; a look of wanting. No one cared what happened to street kids, so they made some of the perfect victims in Gotham city. Jason learned quickly to turn a blind eye to it and avoid the stares, but he knew the judgements would always be there, following him around every place he hid.

Batman placed a hand on Jason's shoulder, and Jason forced himself not to flinch once more as he looked up to where Batman was now standing next to him. So far, no dirty look.

So far so good.

"Time for us to go."

Jason gulped, this is the moment he was afraid of, but it was time to man up and face his fear, "I'm not going to the foster care system." He said this flatly in the most serious-dangerous tone he could muster.

Batman took out a device and click it, "I'm not sending you to foster care." The Bat mobile lit up and it's engine turned on. A door on each side opened up automatically, revealing two sleek leather seats inside, "Get in." Batman jumped into the driver seat and pressed a button closing his door.

Jason gapped. This is by far, the coolest thing he has ever seen in his life. Jason quickly dismissed the first rule he learnt as a child; never go anywhere with a stranger, let alone in their car; and hopped in, "so cooool…" he whispered panning his hand over the millions of buttons and gadgets, but never touching. Touching them would only ruin it, just like everything else that he touched became ruined in his life.

Jason looked over to Batman who pressed the gas pedal, was that a smile in the corner of his mouth? Jason grinned and looked out in front of them as they sped 120miles per hour back out onto the road in a matter of seconds.

* * *

What the fuck happened to reality? This could not be real.

Jason was sitting in the passenger seat grinning like an idiot.

An adult would say he was grinning like a child, as children should. Jason, overwhelmed with the car, could not for the life of him, keep his poker-face on. Not even when he looked over the Batman and saw he still had his poker-face on in his aura of seriousness and fear.

God, he would be beat up so bad if anyone found out the Jason rode in Batman's car. The thought of this did not hinder the smile of Jason's face. Most people on the streets hated Batman with all their heart – however small and corrupt their hearts were. If they found out Jason rode in the Bat's car, it would only make Jason look like he supported him and that meant Jason was never to be trusted and taken down.

He would become an outcast in a street-society already made of outcasts.

Pfft, whatever they can all go fuck themselves in the gutters.

Jason hardly gave a thought what Batman wanted with him; good or bad intentions, whatever it was, it was worth it just to ride in this car.

Jason liked to think of himself, not only as an exceptional lair, but also a bit of a car enthusiast. He knew all sorts of ways to fix cars, cheaply and all by making sure the car still ran, smoothly or not so smoothly.

At least it could turn on, that was all that matter.

Sometimes when Jason was younger, the tenant in the next door apartment Marl Walker –and also a friend of the families- would invite Jason to his job where he would fix car engines and Jason would help him. Marl would give friendly tips and advice as Jason use to hand him whatever tools he needed while he worked. If Jason had to choose anybody in the entire world to look up to, for someone to be his hero, it would be Marl.

Hands down, no questions asked.

"How long have you been on the streets Jason?"

Jason quickly looked over at Batman, startled by the sudden noise. "Erm…almost three months now." That was about right.

"How did you end up on the streets?"

"Parents died." Did Batman of the memory of a gold fish? "I already told you this." Jason huffed over, it was a delicate topic Jason hated being brought up.

But Batman didn't seem to notice, or he just didn't care, "How did they die?"

Ok, now this shit was becoming too annoying, Jason grunted softly and folded his arms up, "I don't think I'm starting to like all these questions." Jason wasn't use to being noticed, and when people started asking questions about anyone on the streets it was not good. Being the center of attention nearly always ended in death. Why would this be any different?

Actually it would be different. Batman was asking these questions. The only plausible reason Batman could want Jason – in a no abusive way – would be to find out everything Jason knew about street crime and use it to take down a crime operation. If those criminals ever found out about how Batman found out whatever intel, it could only mean Jason's head.

Batman nodded, "Don't worry about it, were here anyways."

Jason quickly sat up to look out the window, "here….?" The bat mobile was zooming through a tunnel and entered a cave where the car came to a sudden halt, making Jason lean forward from the force. "Oh my god…" Jason whispered. The car doors opened up, and Jason quickly hopped out and froze. "Where are we…?"

Batman began striding over to a huge computer screen with a huge array of buttons and keys panning out in front of it. Microscopes and scanners were off to the right of the computer, and many other fancy gadgets that Jason was unfamiliar with. "We're in the Batcave. Don't touch anything."

The awe of it, it was huge! Jason eyes did not where to look!

They first landed on the dinosaur and the giant penny! How in the world did Batman get those in here?! They towered over him and the many other displays beneath them. A large joker card hung from the ceiling over many different weapons in glass cases. A large colourful hammer, a laser gun, swords, katanas and knives.

And an armored robot. That was cool.

He was standing in the Batcave. Jason's mind finally registered the name, _Batcave_, and Jason suddenly snorted. "That's a very creative name you've chosen." Jason looked over to Batman hunched over the computer, he only grunted.

"The Master likes to keep a theme and as long lost his imaginative side due to his petulance." A British voice spoke from behind him.

Jason turned around to see an old gentleman wearing a black suit carrying a tray of sandwiches and two drinks. He looked quite distinguished with a thin neatly trimmed mustache and wearing a black tie. "Are you a butler?" Jason raised his eyebrows. Who would have guessed Batman had a butler?

Batman stood up from his chair and walked over, "Alfred this is Jason, I found him taking off the tires from the bat mobile." Batman picked up the mug on from Alfred's tray and sipped it.

"Perhaps you should have guarded up the tires as I had suggested earlier sir." Alfred said with slight amusement, setting down the tray on the high counter, "Please help yourself Master Jason, you look half starved." Did the butler just call him 'Master'?

Bizarre, but Jason was sure he could get use to it.

Jason peered up over the counter; a tad too tall for him, and greedily reached for a sandwich, "I said the same thing to him." Jason bit into the sandwich, damn this is good. The bread crust was flaky and the core of the bread soft, in between the slices was lettuce, fried chicken, tomato and a weird sauce Jason couldn't put a finger on.

But it tasted damn fresh. Like the whole thing was right from some farm.

It was definitely different from canned beans, canned soup, canned veggies, canned anything. Everything Jason ever ate was pretty much all canned food.

Except bread.

But the bread he ate growing up was nothing like this.

"Shall Master Jason be staying the night Sir?"

Jason ear's perked up, _staying the night? That doesn't sound too good…_

Batman and Alfred must have noticed this, they both looked at each other a little concerned, "You'll have your own room for the night Jason, and no one will bother you." Batman assured, placing a hand on Jason's shoulder, where Jason immediately flinched at the contact and Batman quickly took his hand off, "I promise." The boy still looked doubtful and eyed both Batman and Alfred suspiciously. _This is so fucked up._

"Promises don't go far in Gotham," Jason took another bite of his sandwich, "but sure" Jason muffled out from speaking in-between chewing. "What do I got to lose?" He swallowed, hastily taking another bite.

"Right. Alfred can you please send Jason to bed, perhaps a room on the west-wing of the mansion."

_Mansion? _How rich was Batman to afford a butler and a mansion?

"At once Sir." Alfred did a quirk nod, gesturing Jason to the right "If you can please follow me at once young sir and we'll shall see if we can find you any proper sleeping attire."

Jason followed Alfred to an elevator, "Okkk…" Jason quickly dashed back to the counter and grabbed another sandwich before catching back up to Alfred now entering the elevator, " 'Night Batman."

This was some odd night.

* * *

It had been one week. One week with living with Batman, who just two nights ago told Jason his alias of Bruce Wayne.

Which was just fucked up when you thought about it.

The money part made sense, Batman's gadgets cost a lot and Bruce Wayne was rich enough to buy anything he could ever want.

But for someone ever to suggest that Bruce Wayne was Batman, would be a fool.

The Playboy's reputation was well…typical in a sense.

Man-whore, reckless, arrogant. Though at times the newspapers and news showed a smarter more generous side of him.

Very generous.

But never so smart to make someone think, 'Hey maybe that guy is Batman?'.

Apparently it was true though, Bruce Wayne and Batman were the same person. And Jason had promised to never tell another living soul.

"Jason."

Jason looked up from his morning cereal to Bruce entering the kitchen and sitting across the kitchen table from him. Jason mumbled a 'good morning' however it came out as a…

"Ude'murding."

Placing down a breakfast plate in front of Bruce, Alfred frowned slightly, "One should not speak with a mouth full Master Jason."

Jason looked down slightly, "Sorry…"

"It's quite alright, would you like some toast with your fruit Master Jason?" Alfred said placing down a small plate of sliced up fruit, drizzled with some maple syrup.

Jason grinned looking up to the old man, "Yes please!"

Bruce grunted faintly for Jason's attention, "Jason, how would you like to live here with me?"

Dropping his spoon, Jason's face grew very serious and he gulped down the remaining cereal that was still in his mouth, "you mean it?" he inquired.

"I do," nodding, Bruce revealed a file on the table and opened it up, "I would have to make a view calls to my lawyers, and the foster care system before I can sign for guardian ship of course. But it can all be done. After you are officially under my care you can train with me in the _better-part-of-the-mansion_."

_The better part_. He meant the cave!

Bruce placed the papers closer to Jason so he could see for himself, Jason gave a nod pretending he understood what was written on the paper. But he could only make out a view words. "And depending on how well you train Jason, you could become the new Robin."

Jason's jaw dropped and he asked again, "You mean it?!"

"I really do."

Jason jumped up from his chair overcome by excitement, "Yes! Yes! Please!" Jason was smiling so much, Bruce and Alfred could not help but smile back.

Bruce stood up and placed a hand on Jason's shoulder to calm him. "Then I'll go up to my office and call them right away, you should be legally living here in no time."

Two days later.

Jason was bounding with excitement, jumping up and down and peering over Bruce's shoulder constantly to see the foster papers spread out over the office desk. It was stupid for him to be this excited, men don't get excited like this. But Jason could not contain his happiness right now, he was about to move in with the richest man in Gotham and train to become Robin. On top of it all Bruce was really nice and not some low scum perv.

Though it had been talked over that he would be attending school, which sucked, it would be worth it.

Bruce hung up the phone, "Now Jason, before I sign to make this official…Is there anything back in Crime Ally you would like to keep, anybody you want to say goodbye too?"

Jason grinned, "There's nothing, nobody at all I would want to see."

* * *

**Hope you liked it! Reviews would greatly be appreciated! Constructive tips etc. etc.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Anyways enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Nine years later**

Jason was lying in bed, his face buried in his pillow when he heard a window slide open. Jason mentally groaned, _what the fuck does that gremlin want now…?_ At least he hoped it was that gremlin.

Over the past two weeks Damian made it a habit to break in Jason's apartment very early in the morning about twice a week; near the end of patrol kind of early. Apparently Grayson was encouraging Damian to spend more time with the rogue bird, and was torturing him with suffocating hugs. Jason might not be as smart as the rest of the birds seemingly were in the ways detective skills, but Jason wasn't an idiot.

Sure, Dick wanted everyone to get along and be your all American dream 'happy family', creating close brotherly bonds between the sick internship known as the 'Robins'. But force Damian to hang out with Jason without him? That wasn't like Dick, if it was his idea, he too would be crawling through the window.

What Damian really wanted a case, and Jason had lots of Drug cases. That was Damian's real motive. Jason suspected Bruce had benched Damian from any real cases and ordered him to only do 'petty' patrols. Stuff like stopping robberies, rape or murder in the dark allies of Gotham.

It wasn't too exciting; most thugs were knocked out in a matter of seconds.

Damian was smart to get want he wanted though, and brought 'gifts' to prevent Jason from kicking him out right away. He made sure he stayed politically correct too, and made sure not to cross the line when it came to insulting Jason. Once Jason figured out want Damian wanted the second time he came around, Jason made sure to encrypt his files, and hide his paper files in more secure places.

It was nice having something that the little shit didn't. It was a good way to pull the shit's little strings.

Damian stayed a little longer each time to try to collect more leads on one certain case Jason was working on, a Falcone case.

Bruce surely didn't know about it yet or he would be all over it. But Jason had some good people on the streets to give good tips.

And or Bruce was just waiting for a good time to step in and push Jason aside on the case.

Well fuck him too then.

This week Jason even decided to delete some of the little files he had to bother the little bugger. Jason was more into memorizing anyways.

_I wonder what the shit will bring me this week…_

The first time the Demon brought him a bag full of Alfred's cookies, it was a worthy enough item to let the kid stay a bit in return for the bag.

The second time he brought an array of small gadgets, smoke pellets, batarangs and a new grappling hook.

The third time the kid brought some dipping oils and two of Alfred's homemade French bread sticks. The little bastard knew his weakness. There was nothing like homemade bread with a soft inside and a crusty shell with olive oil.

The fourth time he brought a new lead on the case, making it seem he was working independently and accidentally came across it. The demon had managed to become more knowledgeable on this case. Jason cursed himself when he heard the new Intel. This was why he deleted many of his files on it.

The kid would have to find his own shit this time.

Jason heard the sound of the footsteps climbing in from the window and landing on the floor.

Damn, those were too heavy to be Damian's.

Jason rolled over and flipped up from his bed, but not before grabbing his gun that was under his pillow and aiming it at the intruder.

Replacement?

Jason felt a headache already forming. So annoying.

Without wavering the gun's aim from the Red Robin, Jason walked over to him. "I didn't realize I was the new favourite brother to hang around, what the fuck do you want?"

Tim brushed the gun away from his face, "for starters I wouldn't want this in my face thanks." Tim reached into his belt and pulled out two pictures and handed them to Jason. One was a picture of Damian at the docks knocking out a drug operation that Jason was dealing with. And there he was shooting at some bastards in the corner of the picture. The other was a picture of Damian climbing into Jason's window.

"Huh, I see haven't lost your obsessive stalker abilities yet Timbo."

"I want to know why you and Damian are working together."

Jason gave the replacement a smug little grin, "Who says I'm working with him?"

"These pictures prove otherwise."

Jason crumbled them up and tossed them in the garbage pin next to his desk, "The little bugger just wants a case and has been sneaking to get some of my leads on some good cases. I guess Bruce benched him?"

"No, he's away on a Batman Incorporated related mission for a couple of weeks. Dick benched him from hard-core cases two weeks ago after being called away on a Justice League mission, he hasn't gotten back yet. Since then I'm supposed to keep an eye on him, we agreed to stay out of each other way as long the demon follows Dick's orders. It didn't surprise me when I saw he found a good case, what surprised me was that he was working with you." Tim walked over the garbage bin a picked up the pictures, unravelled them before placing them back in his belt.

Jason shrugged, "I went to go bust a drug trade two nights ago and the kid was already there, so I joined him. But ya, I'd be lying if I said he didn't steal the lead from here." Jason holstered his gun on his belt.

"I know this couldn't be just an ordinary drug bust considering Damian is looking for a good case…This involves the Falcone's doesn't it? They're trying to make another come back? A strategic one no doubt to catch both of your attentions? "

Replacement was too smart for his good, "What's it to you?"

"I want in."

_Omgerd_… Is this what the birds do when Grayson is off, flock to me the stray one? Dammit Grayson and your stupid Justice League membership. "No."

Tim nodded, "I thought you'd say that, which is why I brought a new—a new very good lead, one that I'm sure would take you another two nights to find, but by then I'll probably already be plotting and executing the plan to set them up for Gordon to arrest." Tim handed Jason another piece of paper, "By now I'm only letting you stay in the case because well…where the lead is. Meet me outside here tomorrow afternoon at 15:00, where civvies."

What the bastard thought he could kick him off his own case, he'll teach him…Jason looked down at the piece of paper, it was an address.

His old apartment building address!

"What the fuck is this?" Jason demanded hitting the paper with his hand.

"There's a man currently residing there, he refuses to give any information straight to me while I'm wearing the uniform. I tried talking to him tonight but he said he'll talk about everything tomorrow—no costumes, I didn't want to interrogate him too much, he's pretty old. Wear sunglasses though, he doesn't know our identities."

Jason gritted his teeth, he didn't want to work with the replacement, let alone go to his old apartment. There were too many crappy memories there. "Old age has never stopped any of us before."

"Na this guy is ancient, hooked up to IV machine. Probably knew the first lead Falcone back in the day before Batman himself."

Jason grunted.

Tim turned around facing the window, ready to climb out, "Well I'll see you tomorrow." Tim jumped out of the window leaving Jason alone once more. Jason stalked over to the window and slammed it shut. _Great, now I'll have to restart my security system. Just what I wanted to do on a Thursday night._

Looking over to the clock he saw it was only 12:00am. Hmm, the night was only just starting. After resetting the system he could still get in a good patrol before crashing back here at five, in time for the demon to come knocking.

_If_ he decided to come tonight.

Whatever, Jason was looking forward to see what the bastard would be bringing this time.

* * *

**Reviews would be appreciated for constructive feed back! But totally don't worry i'm not pressuring anyone who just so happens to read this story! (Just asking =P) **


	5. Chapter 5

Jason screamed awake, sitting up in quickly then jumping up onto the floor in a defensive stance. His fists were curled ready to punch any bastard who attacked.

Panting, Jason realized there was no one, it was just another nightmare. Joker wasn't here, he couldn't be. He was locked away in Arkham. Joker couldn't hurt him, not here, not again.

Jason wiped his forward, he looked over to his bed, and the sheets were damp from his sweat.

His fears.

Jason sobbed and back up against wall, falling to his feet.

_"Here Boy Blunder, do you like it when I hit you here…" Jason felt the crowbar land in his stomach, "Or do you prefer it when I hit you here?" The maniac laughter engulfed Jason as he felt his backbones crack. _

_Jason hands and feet were bound to thick rope; he was lying on the concrete floor surrounded by the pitch dark. There was a single spotlight on the Joker, circling him like an animal. _

_The kicks and blows of the crowbar kept coming, the laughter never stopping. _

_So sinister. _

_The Joker was everywhere, to his left, to his right, multiple Jokers. Even when he clenched his eyes shut he was there laughing. The physical abuse. _

_Batman would be here soon. He would come and save his Robin. He would come. He had to._

_Jason opened his eyes, the Joker was gone but the laughter was still around him, written laughter floating in front of his eyes. A clock….no a timer, a timer was circling him. _

_10_

_A bomb. Batman could still make it._

_9_

_He could save him._

_8_

_Jason didn't want to die, not yet._

_7_

_His life was finally good._

_6_

_A father figure._

_5_

_A brother._

_4_

_Jason didn't want to die alone._

_3_

_Bruce wasn't coming._

_2_

_He wasn't going to make it on time._

_1_

_Jason was going to die alone._

_0_

Jason screamed again, clenching his head in-between his legs. The explosion mimic in his head. He died alone and woke up alone, buried.

Buried.

And he was alone now.

His throat choked with tears and fury.

Bruce left him alone and still is.

The Joker is still alive.

No one cares for him.

No one loves him.

Jason screamed in frustration, bounded up and threw his lamp on the bed-side table at the wall. It shattered in half, the light bulb exploded into a thousand mini pieces scattering on the floor.

_Breathe._

Jason took a deep breath and became to calm down.

He'll have to clean that up later…Jason walked in a circle to calm down some more.

Jason looked over to the clock, 5:43 am. Nearly two hours sleep. Not a good two hours, but it was something.

He had to get ready for the shit today.

BREAK

Jason stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, he didn't want to smell too sweaty going out in civvies. It wasn't often that he did. Jason ruffled his hair dry with the towel before walking over to the dresser a picking out some older jeans and a white t-shirt.

It was a pretty productive morning, it was about eight-thirty now. Jason looked into some of his other drug dealers to see what they were up too, from what Jason heard no one had been dealing to kids this week. The lamp was cleaned up and his sheets washed again.

Washing his sheets was always routine; Jason could not remember that last time he woke up and wasn't sweating. And no one likes to sleep in smelly sheets, so he washes them every morning.

His phone buzzed, Jason wiped it out of his pocket and saw the replacement was calling him.

Urgh…

"How in hell did you get this number?" Jason growled.

_"Change of plans, were meeting my contact in half an hour. Need a ride?" _Tim sounded very close to being enthusiastic.

Bitch. "Fuck no; I've got my own ride." With that Jason hung up and stalked over to his closet and grabbed his signature leather jacket and took his bike's keys from the key rack. Jason left his apartment and stormed down the apartment's stairs into the underground garage. Jason calculated it would take him thirty minutes to get across the city with good traffic, whatever who cares if he made the replacement wait for five minutes.

Jason hopped on his motorcycle and turned on the engine, revved it and left the garage at 60 miles per hour out onto the busy shitty streets of Gotham.

Jason was positive he royally pissed off the men he almost ran over leaving the garage. But they probably deserved it. Jason flipped down the shades on his motorcycle helmet as he weaved in-between the traffic. His motorcycle almost loud enough to block out the sound of the hocking horns from other drivers as he ran the red light.

Jason saw a school bus stopping ahead. What was it Saturday? Jason glanced down at his dashboard's clock, no apparently it was Monday…

Jason slowed down and came to a full stop behind the bus. Three young boys got on, too young for their personalities to reflect the drugs, sex and money that they would become involved too where they were older. But old enough to know Gotham was shit and every corner and street had danger written on the sidewalks.

From the bus stop it appeared two Mothers were waving them a goodbye. One was clearly a prostitute…with the dark make-up smudged around her eyes, the baggy hoodie that for sure was covering some revealing clothing.

It seemed like she a good mother besides that, but Jason was only basing that off the fact she was watching over her son as he got on the bus.

The other Mother looked…respectable. If that word could ever be used to describe anyone in Gotham.

Jason could remember when his own Mother use to do that, before she got involved in drugs and before he ditched school altogether just to look after her.

The school bus closed its doors and began to move, and no sooner Jason had passed it.

He could practically imagine the 'awes' coming from the school children as he zoomed past.

Jason sped up and weaved through traffic, even going against traffic for a little morning thrill. He gripped the throttle even more, now nearly going over 90 miles an hour.

Everyone was contaminated; no one was safe from the corruption that was called Gotham. Everyone sooner or later, young or old, smart or an idiot, would get involved. And depending how deep they got involved, who they worked for, what they did, Jason would kill them for it.

Jason no longer felt anything when he killed, whenever he took a life. He took lives on a nightly basis. His ears were deaf to the sound of men's cries or screams of agony. However those were only in torture cases, sometimes you needed to get a little dirty for good Intel. Most kills Jason kept it clean, his aim was as good as aim could get, so he did immediate kill shots. Shots to the heart, head or many other major arteries that—if damaged—would make you bleed to death in a matter of mere seconds.

Jason only felt something when one member of his 'family' was close by to him. Whenever they were in sight of what he did, or in hearing distance. He hated himself whenever they were close by to his new dead victims. Especially when the member(s) were one of his 'brothers'. He despised himself, almost evening feeling guilty, he felt like the vermin he found on the streets.

Jason gripped the throttle more.

Their disapproving glares, those sympathy glances he got when his back was turned, or those 'everything-will-be-okay' smiles found at the corner of their mouths. Except Damian the Demon, he gave his snobby smug faces, his 'I'm-better-then-you' face. The bastard.

They were all Bastards. The replacement did those faces too at times, you could see it in his eyes, and he was disappointed that Jason wore the bat symbol on his Kevlar. The fact that Jason was damaging the Bat icon was enough to make Tim's head turn.

Richard_, Dick_. He was one of the worst, trying to sympathize with him. Jason didn't want his fucking pity.

Then there was Bruce, the Goddamn Batman himself. If Jason ever EVER took a life in front of Bruce he got that look, that damn look he got. That regret written all over his face, he regretted taking Jason in. Jason was the failure, the fucking failure in the family with no guts to change to finally move on and finally FINALLY go onto to the 'right' path! Damian did it; sure he was on going to be the next big golden boy after Dick and Tim.

But no, never him, not the mistake. Bruce regretted taking Jason in, making him the new Robin. Being Robin, having Bruce was the fucking best thing that ever had happened to Jason in his shit-hole of a life and Bruce _regretted_ it!

There's a saying amongst the hero community-heck, even the villain community too! That the Robins are the sons of Batman. It's true, Dick, Tim and Damian have the father-son connection with Bruce, and Bruce feels like they are his sons. Even Jason did once.

ONCE.

Jason sped up faster on his motorcycle.

ONCE, a long fucking time ago.

Before Bruce decided to regret making him Robin. But what does that mean? No one has looked at it from Jason's view. What in the world did Bruce's regret mean? If you saw between the lines, it would be this –

Bruce regretted making Jason his SON. Because what's a Robin to a Batman? A SON! A ROBIN IS A SON! And Bruce didn't fucking want him!

And it killed Jason knowing that in-between those lines…it meant that. That Bruce loved all his sons but him.

Jason clenched his eyes shut from tearing, _awe man don't be such a pussy Jase_.

His GPS beeped, he was here. Jason opened his eyes quickly, a car was parked was ahead of him.

_Fuck_

Jason slammed on the breaks, but the sudden loss of speed in such a short distance sent him flying. His motorcycle flipped and Jason literally flew. Jason curled his body midair to decrease the force of impact once he hit the ground.

And boy, when he hit that ground he went rolling, somersaulting some distance before spotting up right like he had been sitting there the whole time with his legs stretched out. Jason patted himself over, how the fuck did that happen without him being seriously manned. _Damn, thank you training!_ His jeans were torn and one large cut spanned from his thigh to his ankle on his left leg, and his leather jacket…

No…it was totally new too. Huge scratches lined the arms of the jacket, he was sure the back of it had more. Jason lifted off his helmet, the glass was cracked and the shell of it had a large dent in it. But had the helmet been made with any less quality, Jason knew he definitely would have been dead, or at least in a self-induced coma.

_And thank you Wayne tech…_

Jason stood up and bending over his legs and holding onto his left one, damn it was bleeding pretty badly. Jason looked over to his motorcycle, smashed into a million different parts against a brick wall across the street.

_Good thing I jumped off...and good thing I have a spare…_

Jason looked in the direction of his old home, no signs of improvement…especially seeing the replacement was running over to him. Great.

"Jay! Are you okay?" Tim placed a hand over Jason's back and peered down to get a look of Jason's face. Jason quickly pushed him off and stood up straight, making a slightly grunting sound as he shifted the weight of his body to his right uninjured leg. Dignity still intact.

"I'm fine."

"Your fine considering you just survived a motorcycle accident caused by going over 130 miles per hour to zero in the distance span of 20 feet. But overall, your left leg begs to differ. I have an emergency kit in my bike; I just parked it in the ally over there." Tim pointed to the same ally Bruce had found Jason in all those years ago. Damn memories. Damn that night Bruce came to regret, to take Jason in. "And I just so happened to have a spare pair of pants for you, since yours are torn to shreds."

Jason glared into Tim's eyes, "Whoop de do." The sarcasm literally rolled out of his mouth.

"We're going to have to hurry though, but considering you sped all the way here…we have fifteen minutes to fix you up before the meeting. Had you actually kept to the speed limit, you would have arrived on time; as planned, and you would have arrived without crashing your bike and therefore not injuring yourself…which means we wouldn't have to rush." Tim put and arm under Jason's shoulder to support him.

… "Thank you captain obvious."

This would be so much fun…

* * *

**So, ya, any tips and advice would be very welcomed. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Here Jason – no, just sit here so I can actually wrap your leg up." Tim huffed, _God Jason is so frustrating_. Tim tried to keep directing Jason to sit on his bike, but Jason kept shoving him off and muttering '_I don't need your help Replacement_.' "Seriously just sit down and take your pants off so I can fix you up! We don't have time for this! This needs to be quick!"

Jason almost chuckled, "I didn't know you were so keen on getting in my pants kid, I thought you were saving yourself for Superboy." Jason took his pants off and sat on the bike, his cut spanning from the top of his thigh to his ankle. "And maybe you ought to think before you speak, everything you just said can be taken the wrong way."

Tim's face went bright red and he huffed some more grabbing his first aid kit, "Wha-what I don't like Superboy that way! Were only friends and I like girls!" He said defiantly and knelt down to get a better look at Jason's leg.

"Keep telling that to yourself kiddo."

"Just stop talking." Tim grabbed some white bandages and began to unravel them. "And stop whistling, you'll attract us unwanted attention…and it's annoying." Tim began to wrap the bandage around Jason's ankle and slowly made his way up; making sure it was tight to stop the bleeding, but loose enough not to cause blood circulation to stop completely. Tim secured the bandage once he reached Jason's knee and grabbed a medical stapler from his kit.

"What the fuck is that for?" Jason pointed to the stapler in Tim's hand.

Tim looked at it_, it's just to help close off the wound on his thigh since it is much deeper…I don't know why he's getting so defensive. _"The cut on you thigh is considerably deeper than the part of the cut on your calf. It'll need stiches later but this will have to do for now, its purpose is the same as what stiches do…only it's a stapler and not a needle." Tim saw Jason didn't look convinced. "It'll hurt, but it's our only option if you don't want to bleed to death in an hour. You could do it if you like?" Tim held the stapler up for Jason.

Jason quickly swiped the stapler from Tim's hand, "It's works just like a normal stapler?" Jason said suspiciously now holding it to the cut on his thigh, ready to use it.

Tim nodded. "Just make sure you staple it adjacent to the cut as best as you can."

Jason clicked the stapler.

"What the fuck dude?!" Jason grasped his leg and hovered over it before sitting back up straight and punching Tim right in the face. Tim- already kneeling on the ground by Jason's leg – went flying back into the brick wall.

Tim hunched over onto his hands and knees, clenching his right eye, gasping for breath. _Jason sure packed a good punch_. But what was wrong with this guy? He dared not call this rogue bird his brother. "What the hell Jason! I said it would hurt!"

"Tough shit pretty boy, pass me the damn bandages," Jason held out his hand, "I'll wrap the rest myself."

Tim pulled himself up still holding his eye and threw the bandages from the kit at Jason's face. Jason caught it swiftly.

"Watch it Replacement, remember who you're dealing with!"

Tim leaned up against the brick wall and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was certain his eye was already a deep purple, he could hardly see out of it – that's how fast it swelled. Tim watched Jason work on his leg, _does this guy not know first aid_? "You're wrapping it too tightly."

Jason continued to wrap it, even tighter now that Tim was bitching. "What's it to you?"

Tim narrowed his eyes at Jason's reaction_, does he really want to cut off his own circulation_? "You're going to be cutting of your blood flow in your leg if you continue to wrap it like that. If you leave it like that for long you're for sure suffer some kind of nerve damage. And I'm pretty sure you need both legs to run from Batman."

Who the fuck did this kid think he was? "I don't need your sass."

"Here just let me do it," and before Jason could protest, Tim confiscated the bandages and began to unravel them from Jason's thigh. Then to make things worse, Tim began fussing over the poor job Jason did.

Dignity lost.

"I also dated Stephanie." Tim mumbled.

Jason cocked an eyebrow, "ya but did you sleep with her? And I don't mean just side by side, I mean the dirty. Two becomes one sort of deal." Jason saw Tim go a deep red, he was blushing, of course he was the virgin.

"No…"

Jason tossed his head and laughed, "I thought so buddy. Maybe next girlfriend, or should I say boyfriend?"

Tim huffed and shock his head, there was no winning this. "Here," Tim whipped a pair of jeans to him.

Jason caught the flying pair of jeans. **…** "What the fuck are these? These won't fit!" Jason held them up in front of him, _these are for dwarfs_…

"They'll be a bit short…and tight, but you can't wear your own when they're ripped to shreds. Besides it's either that or everyone gets to see you wearing your Superman boxers." Tim snickered.

What?!

Jason looked down to see that in fact, he was wearing Superman boxers_. Urgghhh!_ Jason threw his head back and groaned, in the corner of his eye he saw Tim laughing out loud, trying to control himself.

Jason was going to kill Roy for getting him Justice league themed Boxers for Christmas. The set came with a pair of boxers with each main Justice Leaguer's symbol on it. Roy did it as a joke and thought it would be funny. There was a Superwoman one, Green Lantern, Superman, Flash, Martian Manhunter, Aqua man and Batman one.

Jason promised he would never wear them, but when you're tight on clean clothes…

_Thank God_ he didn't wear the Batman one today.

Jason jumped up and quickly put on the jeans, "Go to hell." Jason glared at the laughing Tim and zipped up the zipper on the jeans_, damn these are tight_... "Stay sharp and get real, we got shit to do."

Tim chuckled to himself and covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile. The jeans were indeed tight, just like skinny jeans, only they stopped at Jason's ankle showing the world his socks. It was very nerdish. But Tim had to get to business, "Right, I assume your sunglasses were on your bike?"

_Fuck_, they were on his bike…

"Don't worry, I also have a spare." Tim dug into his bag and tossed Jason a pair.

Jason looked down at the sunglasses in his hand, "I'm not wearing fucking John-Lennon-Harry-Potter sunglasses,"

Tim threw on his own Aviator glasses and smirked, "You'll get what you're given."

"Gimme those!" Jason snatched the Aviator sunglasses off of Tim's face and put them on his own, "If I have to wear these stupid jeans the least I can have is some good pair of shades!"

Tim shrugged and put on the John Lennon sun glasses, "fine, these are kind of making a comeback anyways."

"Pfft, not in a million years." Jason adjusted his torn leather jacket; he might as well make a new fashion statement with his jeans and torn jacket. He had the confidence to make it work. "Let's get out of here, what apartment number did you say he was in?"

"I never told you what apartment number he was in, you should really pay attention more."

Both boys walked out onto to street like they had the world by the balls - considering they looked like idiots. Tim wearing his Black John Lennon glasses, and pants buckled securely at proper waist level while Jason had his tight ass jeans on and shredded jacket. They had this, and assertively stared down the strange looks from the pimps and jack-asses hanging around the apartments in their respective groups.

No one could tell them they didn't know how to make heads turn.

Perhaps this day wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

On the third floor, Tim opened the door entering the hallway from the stairwell, holding it open for Jason. Jason merely acknowledged this with a small grunt; this use to be his floor. It was unchanged, everything in the whole apartment looked nearly the exact same, just a little older.

Jason kept his head low; this was the last place in the entire world he wanted to be at right now. He would rather be locked in a room with his 'father' then this.

"We're going to apartment #313, it's on the left." Tim said.

Jason snapped his head up, it was _his_. He lived there. It was him, his drunken father, and his mother.

His _real_ mother. Not his so called Birth mother who abandoned him in the warehouse with the Joker.

Tim stopped in front of the door and suddenly Jason was teleported back in time.

_"No you listen B*tch! Get over here! Where'd that kid go with my money?!"_

_Jason listened in front of the apartment door; on the other side his father was throwing a tantrum- a very big one. Jason leaned his ear in more to hear well._

_There was a slap, a punch and the shattering of dishes. _

_Jason winced._

_His mother gave him some money to get her depression medication at the clinic, it was nearly 50 dollars. His father's 50 dollars._

_"Bluejay common lets go, if he comes storming out he'll snatch her meds and then what?" A girls voice spoke from behind him, a hand reaching out touching his shoulder._

_Jason whipped around, "who's there?!" Jason saw a shady silhouette of a girl blew away like sand...She was gone before he could see her face. _

_His apartment door slammed opened from behind and a thunderous voice bellowed, "You there Brat! Give me those!"_

_A large hand grabbed Jason by his coat's collar and yanked him in, where the door was then slammed closed._

"Dude you okay?"

Jason shook his head back to reality, mustering his own 'bitch-don't-look-at-me' voice, "Ya I'm fine, let's get this over with."

How dare that bastard not tell him it was #313 they were coming too, he would have never agreed to come then. Sure, his apartment building was one thing, but his apartment's _apartment._ No, not in a million years. His mother died there, he found her. His father beaten him there, many times to a bloody pulp.

Tim knocked twice on the door.

A muffled voice weakly came from the other side from in the apartment, "_Come in._"

Tim looked at Jason, Jason returned it. Jason was taken aback, Tim was waaay too serious for this, while at least Jason had an excuse since Jason had personal ties to this. Tim, well he just reminded Jason of Bruce, all…Bruce.

_I have to remind myself to set this kid up with some girls… _

Tim opened the door wide open before stepping in, Jason followed.

_After I beat him up for bringing him here. _Jason couldn't back out now, not without admitting more facts about his past to his _replacement_. Tim would surely continue to bother him about it, asking him what had happened to him. Or he would just tell Grayson when he got back, so then Grayson would just pester Jason about it.

And Jason did not want to open old wounds with them.

It was better if he just did that on his own.

Damn.

The place, well it looked the exact same. With the exception of some furniture…and the ugly old man hook up to an IV machine on the couch smoking a cigar. Instinct, Jason looked around for his father. He almost laughed at himself, his father was dead, six feet under where the bastard belonged.

"They use to have class." The old man coughed, choking on the smoke from his cheap cigar. "Names Dennis McCourt."

Tim walked right up to the man while Jason hung around in the middle of the room just off of the kitchen. More cabinets were missing or hanging loose.

And there was the wall he found his mother up against.

This sucked.

"Thank you for seeing us Mr. McCourt," Tim spoke extending a hand, the old man ignored it, Jason gave his back an odd look, _who does that_? "We only have a view short questions we like to talk to you about. But first would you mind telling us everything you know?"

Dennis chuckled out a cough, "Don' see why not, I'm going to be dead before this month is up." He breathed in the cigar more deeply before hacking out a stream of coughs. It lasted for a few minutes. "First the drugs, nuthin odd there, they plan to do shipments once a week, only 2 days affer before—"

"You mean if it was Friday this week, it would be Sunday the next? And the next week after that it would be Tuesday?" Tim enquired for clarification.

"Yes boy that's what I said," whacking out another cough Dennis sucked in more of the cigar, "Now what was I saying…?"

"The dates of the drug trade."

"Don't interrupt boy!" Dennis shook his fist, "Now, where was I again? Yes, it's a new drug to 'numb the mind' supposedly, kids these days making so many new drugs its ridiculous. In my day it used to be straight, just alcohol during the prohibition. That was class."

_How old was this guy? Alcohol prohibition was in the twenties_...or maybe thirties? Jason didn't care to know history, it wasn't important.

"And guns, good'l guns. Classy they were."

_Just get with it old man…_Jason hung up against the wall.

"Here boy, there in that box, yes that one—" Dennis directed Tim, "Hand me another cigar would ya'? and pass the lighter."

Tim handed them over and they watch the old man flicking the lighter till it lit his new cigar.

The replacement took back the lighter and placed it back in the box, "Do you know the first day they will be bringing in the shipment?"

"No boy, now there was something else…oh! They're setting up a girl's club—well, a men's club if you know what I mean. Maybe not you boy, you look a bit young to know what nasty things I talk about, how about the boy in the back, he looks older…you know the nasty? The nasty a man does with a woman?"

Jason smirked, "of course," it was funny how the old man assumed Tim's innocence and thought he was completely oblivious to the fact. Tim looked a bit insulted to be called naïve.

Tim blushed a little, "now to get back on topic…do you know where and what their motive is?"

"A fancy place the Falcone told me he's set up, tush he's so young he keeps blabbering 'n bragging about it all. He should know not to trust anybody, the fool, living off old granddad's money. He wants to use the woman to use ém drugs to drug the clients. Manipulate them or somethin'. In my olds days nuthin were ever too complicated, it was to the point!"

This old man knew a lot, Jason pipped up and walked away from the wall closer to the man, "How do you know all this?"

The man laughed, but it was more like a gurglingly drowning sound, "The young Falcone comes around every night to check up on me. I saved his dad back in the day and feels like he owes me something for that. The fool." The man coughed once more, "But I ain't complaining."

"Do you know what kind of woman they are targeting, if any?"

_Stupid question Replacement._

The old man chuckled, "Whad you think boy? Broken ones."

"Thank you for your time Mr. McCourt, your cooperation will not be forgotten. Common," Tim gestured over to Jason, "Let's go."

"Don't die boys," The old man coughed after them, as they closed the apartment door "no one will miss ya then!"

Tim shook his head, "crazy old man."

Jason punched Tim in the arm, "next time tell me the fucking apartment address!"

"Hey! Whatever it's over now, I got all the information I needed."

"How the fuck did you get it all from that, he gave us some base story with no key information besides those dates!"

Tim glared to the man towering above him, "I'll tell you later." He said in a hushed tone, "Someone's coming."

Jason heard the footsteps, and turned his head slightly around. There was a plumped old woman making her way down the hallway after just exiting the stairwell. …?

The old woman stopped at her door and fumbled with her keys, dropping them on the floor, _"Blasted keys…_" she muttered under her breath. She started to bend down, till Jason quickly ran over and picked them up for her.

smiled brightly, "Why thank you young man!" she reached out cheerily for her keys from Jason's hands, then looked at him straight through the dark lenses of his sunglasses. "My! Jason! Is that you? Jason Todd?"

Jason had no idea what to say. This woman helped him on the darkest of nights, after beatings from his father. She fed him too sometimes as well, warm canned soup. Cheap, but warm. Her husband, Marl Walker was his childhood hero. That man was his idol. He was the dad he wish he had. And here was his wife, the goodhearted Mrs. Walker.

"Why Jason it is you! My dear boy! Look have much you've grown," Mrs. Walker marveled at Jason, "So tall, and oh so handsome too!" She reached her hands up and placed them on Jason's shoulder to get a better look.

Jason definitely didn't remember her being so short, she stood two heads below him. He was in shock, in truth if she ever came to his mind in the past view years, he always imaged her passed away. "Umm-wow Mrs. Walker I wasn't expecting to run into anyone I knew today, I—"

"Oh come in, we must catch up! I'll put on some tea! You and your friend there hanging in the back, come here child, let me see you. Any friend of Jason's is a friend of mine! He had such good judge of character as a boy! Both him and Katherine!"

If anything his mother Katherine had the worst judgement, she _did marry_ his father.

Tim advanced and offered his hand to Mrs. Walker, she took it eagerly and shaked it, "It's such good to meet you child, what's your name?"

"T-Tim." He was clearly shocked to meet someone who was a part of Jason's past. No one ever mentioned it, sure Tim knew the basics. Abusive Father, Depressed Mother. "I've never met any from Jason's child hood before, he never mentioned anyone."

Mrs. Walker smiled warmly, "Oh here Jason, come hug me." She reached out and wrapped her short arms around Jason, Jason awkwardly patted her back and shot a look to Tim_. Don't you dare tell anyone_. "I understand, Jason had such a cruel childhood! I never mention any of my past demons either!" she laughed kindly. "Here Jason dear, be a darling and open my door for me!"

Jason did has he was instructed. Deep down he wouldn't have minded entertaining Mrs. Walker with having tea with her. He loved her like family_, real_ family. Not bat family, there was no love there. And definitely not fatherly love, he hated his father.

But Tim was here. Why?!

"Oh this is so over whelming for me! To think! Oh dear!" Mrs. Walker hubbled into her apartment, "come, come in, don't be shy."

Tim looked over to Jason, _Say something_

"I'm really sorry Mrs. Walker but—"

"Don't be silly, come in and have some tea with a lonely old forgotten woman."

Jason reluctantly followed, shooting Tim death glares. Jason bowed his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, boy he did not what Tim to see any of this.

"You too Timmy child, come on!" She waved her hand in, Tim shyly followed Jason through the door.

_He **should not** be here._

_"_Oh Jason dear! You know what! Remember that box (1) I gave you so many years back? Well I forgot I had another one for you, I'm so sorry I forgot, I'll have to get it for you after tea!"

Jason gave her a small smile, "its okay Mrs. Walker, I don't mind."

Jason really didn't want it.


	7. Chapter 7

"Darlings have a seat—yes right there, now let me put that kettle on!" Mrs. Walker waddled into the kitchen, not a moment later Jason had Tim pinned up against the wall, his forearm against Tim's neck.

"Don't tell a fucking soul about this!" Jason snarled, pushing harder on Tim's neck, "If I ever find out you do, I WILL kill you—slowly!"

Tim huffed, throwing his arms up "I won't, I pro-promise!"

Jason slowly let go of Tim, "Now sit down and don't say a word unless spoken too." Both of them took their seats.

God, this place hasn't changed much either. Jason was sitting in the same spot he use to sit as a boy. He remembered the nights he was alone, hiding from his father. Mrs. Walker and her husband Paul gave him refuge, and soup. Warm chicken noodle, sometimes with some bread on the side or crumbled in the bowl.

And over there, on the couch, he use to sit with Paul. Sometimes leaning against Paul's shoulder as he told some stories from when he too was living on the streets or running away from someone. It meant a lot to Jason, for someone he could relate too, but for that someone who also cared.

Mrs. Walker and Paul never had any kids of their own. So maybe that was they helped Jason on those bad nights. Perhaps had they had kids, they would never had cared for Jason, or thought he was just another street kid without getting to know him first. Assuming things he could have down like the rest of society did.

Jason was glad to have them in those times, no he was grateful, forever grateful. And there was no he could ever show his gratitude for them, a way to say 'thanks' as a child. He could give nothing in return for what they did for him. Perhaps now though…he could clean up this part of town more, protect this apartment for Mrs. Walkers sake.

Jason never came this way in his patrols, not unless he absolutely had too. Even though Mrs. Walker would never it know it was him protecting this building, it was the least he could do.

Jason liked this idea.

Mrs. Walker re-entered the sitting area carrying a tray of her best tea cups and sat them down on the table.

Mrs. Walker never used them, they were her prized precession that she kept under lock and key in a case underneath the kitchen counter. Jason remembered one time she showed him, he was not allowed to touch, but he could look. The cups use to be her grandmothers she told him, passed down to her mother then finally herself. She washed them once a year, on the anniversary of her parent's marriage. They day her mother received them.

"Now this is a very special occasion for me seeing my lovely boy all grown up, so I've brought out my very special tea set." She plopped down next to Jason, "Now be careful not to drop or chip them, they're very dear to me. My mother passed them on to me when Paul and I married, just like they were passed to her when she married."

Jason picked up a cup careful and took a sip of the tea.

Tim also picked up a cup eyeing Jason carefully, _whoever thought today I see Jason chatting with an old woman who claims to be a friend…and drinking tea?_ Tim sipped the tea as well, it was nothing compared to Alfred's, it tasted vile in comparison.

Jason was the first to speak between the two of them, "How is Paul? Is he around today?"

Paul use to be gone one or two days at a time, working in the shop to make ends meet. Jason sometimes use to help Paul, it was probably Jason's favourite way to spend his time. He sometimes would fetch lunch for Paul from Mrs. Walker and bring it back to him from his apartment, other times he would spend the day handing Paul his tools.

Mrs. Walker frowned slightly, "my sweet heart past away only but two years ago darling, cancer got him."

Jason mentally signed, "I'm sorry to hear that, I know how much you loved him. He was my child hood idol, I wish I could have seen him today and told him that as well."

With a small smile, Mrs. Walker looked over to Jason, "Oh don't you worry darling, he knew alright. After your poor mother passed away, we were thinking about taking you and poor Katherine in, as foster children. But we never knew were you gone off too." Mrs. Walker set down her tea cup, "We kept an eye out, oh yes we did. But we never saw you. Then one day we saw you in the papers with Bruce Wayne! We we're both so happy for you! And knew we could rest easy knowing you were safe and he could always provide for you!" Mrs. Walker smiled at the memory, the frowned quickly, "But we never saw Katherine in the photo, or any of the newspapers in fact, what happened to her?"

Why did she keep referencing to his mother both dead and alive, did Mrs. Walker develop some memory illness?

Jason twiddled his finger around the handle of the tea cup and looked over to Tim to see him very uncomfortable, but intrigued by the conversation all the same. "She died Mrs. Walker."

"Oh darling!" she gasped, clasping Jason's hand, "I'm so very sorry! I knew how close you two were, always standing by each other's side sticking up for the other. You were like two peas in a pod!" Mrs. Walker chuckled at a memory, "I remember when you both came to my door, covered head to toe in orange paint! You two never ended up telling how that happened, you said you swore oaths to each other never to another living soul!"

Jason smiled fondly at the memory too, he remembered that, but he didn't remember his mother with him.

Jason was 9 and had climbed into a construction site while two cops were in pursuit him for stealing a box of depression pills. He began to climb wooden cases stack atop of each other and he slipped, tripping one of them to fall over. Sure enough it was the orange paint Mrs. Walker was talking about and it splattered against the ground. Jason fell with the case and in result, was covered in orange paint.

By climbing over the cases however he had gotten away from the cops.

He decided to go to Mrs. Walker and Paul's place since they surely had paid for their water bill, unlike his own parents; causing the manager of the building to shut off his own water at home. How else was he to wash off all the paint?

Mrs. Walker was home alone at the time and gasped at the sight of him. She poured him a nice bath—a nice bath at the time was clean water, not warm and clean water. She left him to his own privacy to strip down and wash. She had even taken the liberty to wash his own clothes. Though it still remained a small shade of orange, the paint was gone nonetheless.

Jason laughed, "An oath I still intend to keep."

He didn't remember saying an oath.

_Omg did Jason just laugh? He did just laugh! This is going to be #4 on my 'oddest things I've ever heard list!" _Tim sipped his tea more, taking turns between staring at Mrs. Walker and Jason.

"Now Tim my child" Mrs. Walker turned her attention to Tim, "You wouldn't so happen to be Tim Drake?"

Tim swallowed his tea and looked at Jason. Jason gave a quirt nod to answer her. "Ermm, yes, yes I am."

Mrs. Walker raised her hands up in joy before clasping her knees, "Oh that's wonderful! Then you two must be brothers now!" she smiled brightly, "Jason always wanted to have a younger brother when he was a boy!"

_Noooooooooooo! Why did she have to say that?_! Jason refrained from covering his face with his hands. _This is so embarrassing!_

Tim almost laughed_, Jason? Jason wanting a younger brother?_ Tim could not imagine, smiling "Jason never told me that."

Jason sipped his tea quickly, "erm yes—with good reason."

Mrs. Walker laughed, "Sibling rivalry oh yes I forgot about that, I guess know you wouldn't have wanted your younger brother to know that hmm?"

Tim blushed and being called Jason's younger brother, what a strange thought.

"It's fine Mrs. Walker, as long as he doesn't tell the others." Jason shot a warning glare to Tim.

"Why that's quite right! Bruce Wayne took in a lot of children over the years, so you must have many siblings now!"

"yes I do."

"Well I think it's positively lovely everything has worked out well for you Jason. From meeting your brother Tim here – So sweet he is - I'm sure you have a lovely family now to welcome you home every night. I know how much you hated being alone, it was never good _or safe_ you use to say." Mrs. Walker shook her head agreeing with Jason's rule. "You deserve a nice life Jason, after all that terrible things that happened to you growing up. I remember that night you came here after those men attacked you on the street attack, oh my god child I was so worried for you, I nearly called an ambulance there was so much blood on you! Thank god Katherine managed to pull you back here!"

Jason faked a smile, he remembered that night, the men cornered him and stripped him. But right now he had to stay with the conversation, "ya you could say that."

Tim looked absolutely guilty, perhaps he should try to make more an effort in trying to get Jason to come home like Dick did. Dick was the only one who seemed to care and do actions on it. Sure Bruce probably cared, not like he would ever show it though, and if he did he would surely botch it up.

"So tell me darling what do you do now?"

"I'm a police officer in Budhaven." A lie. That is what Grayson does for a living.

"Oh Jason, I can't say how proud I am of you right now! You're taking my breath away, helping that poor city! With Mr. Wayne you for sure went back to school. I can't lie but when I first heard you dropped out of school at the young age I was a bit disappointed…but it was understandable since your bastard of father abandon you and you had to take care of your poor mother."

Why did she keep opening old locked away memories?

"Tim child, you still must be in school yes?"

Tim looked up suddenly, he was doing his best to look bored and uninterested in the conversation for Jason so he might think Tim wasn't absorbed in it. But it was definitely difficult. "Err—ya I am."

"Well good for you child! I'm sure you look up to your brother, he has such a story to tell—if you ever go to ask him, he was never on an easy path growing up, and now he's a police officer!" She eyed Jason, "Your mother would be so proud of you darling, same with my Paul."

Jason smiled warmly at that, he knew he wasn't an officer and he was telling a bunch of lies, but the words still meant something. But deep down inside he knew Paul would disapprove of Jason and what he did at night. He was a killer, Paul always warned him about them, saying what dirt any killer was. Now that Jason was older, he was thinking Paul must have tried steering Jason away from that path, to lower his chances of joining a gang, making sure the boy had some morals to go by.

"Now Tim say your proud of your big brother, I'm sure you are, you must be." Mrs. Walker was excited, leaning over the edge of her seat to hear Tim.

Tim looked befuzzled, he was not expecting that question.

Jason leaned backed in the couch, he was the complete opposite of something Tim would ever be proud of. Tim turned his head away from Jason anytime Jason entered the cave, or whenever they crossed paths while they were both patrolling. But Jason kept his poker face on and glanced away from Tim waiting to hear the lie he was about to tell.

"Ahh, yes I am proud of him. He's sure come a long way. Bruce is proud too, how far he's come in the last year."

And there it was, that lie. Jason winced. Bruce was never proud of him, never _is_ proud of him. He's the reject, the rogue bird, the disappointment. Tim was sure not proud of him either, that was for sure. How many times did Jason try to kill him? Jason sure lost count a long time ago.

It was time to get going.

Jason looked at his wrist, pretending it to be a watch, "I'm really sorry Mrs. Walker, but me and my _brother_ really need to get going. We're supposed to be picking up our baby brother from his check up right about now."

"Why I'm so sorry to keep you from your brother, my sometimes I just forget myself these days!" Mrs. Walker stood up, "Here darling give me a hug and promise me you'll come back to visit me, its so lonely here with no one to talk to!"

Jason and Tim stood up from their seats and Mrs. Walker buried herself in Jason's shirt giving him a great bear hug, which Jason returned.

_It's strange seeing Jason willingly hug someone…it looks like he actually genially cares for her too._ Tim mused.

"I'll be back to talk some more Mrs. Walker, I promise." Jason said breaking apart the hug. 7

"Good, you wouldn't leave an old woman by herself now would you," she playfully swatted Jason's arm, "Now Tim child come here," Mrs. Walker hobbled over to Tim and hugged him, "Now I wont let you leave without a hug either!" Mrs. Walker gave Tim a big pair hug too before breaking it apart, "oh silly me! I forgot all about the box again, here let me go grab it for you Jason dear!"

Both boys watched to hobble over to her bedroom.

Tim looked over to Jason, "Are you really going to visit her again or is this just an act?"

Jason adjusted his jacket, "That's none of your damn business."

Of course he planned to be visiting Mrs. Walker again, just next time _alone_. She had done so much for him, he could repay that by not only cleaning up this area, but having some tea with her – no matter how shitty the tea was.

"Here darling," Mrs. Walker hobbled over to Jason carrying a very old box, the cardboard sides of the box look ready to fall off. Mrs. Walker handed it too Jason, "Now, there's the most adorable picture of both you and Katherine in there were you were young. It'll be a little memory for you of her," Mrs. Walker smiled warmly showing Jason and Tim to the door, "It's a picture worth buying a frame for honey."

Jason looked down to the box he held in his arms, he really did not want this, "Thank you for everything Mrs. Walker, I'm not sure if I could ever repay for you all you did for me."

Tim opened the door, and stood out in the hallway waiting for the final goodbye.

"Don't be silly darling, just come back and visit me soon. Now you two boys have a great day! Love you both!"

Jason smiled brightly at that, it was nice to be loved. "Good bye Mrs. Walker."

With that she closed the door, leaving Tim and Jason in the hallway.

Jason definitely would have to come back a visit her, in a way she was like a grandmother to him, and she always had been. Something like what Alfred is to everyone back at the manor.

Walking outside into the ally again Tim found his voice, "I never knew you were…you know, as a kid I mean."

_Now what_? "I was what Replacement?" Jason snarled,

"'_Taken', _you know…" Tim whispered,

So that's what the bastard was talking about.

Tim bowed his head, "Did you ever…do more..? Like for money..?"

Jason didn't need this guy's pity too.

Tim shuffled his feet unsure what to say next, whatever Jason did as a child… "It's just…I didn't think you would ever participate in child prostitution. Its…disgusting the thought."

"You're fucking walking on thin ice _Replacement_."

But it was disgusting.

"I mean like…does Bruce know? I didn't think it was that common…even for street kids…"

"He doesn't know and he better not fucking find out, no one. And its fucking more common than you think, if you get hungry enough. Maybe you should get your head out of your ass and take a look around where we are right now."

Tim looked around, "Crime Ally."

"No shit Sherlock, and just by looking at this place I can tell you something you nor Bruce would know by looking at this rat whole."

Tim looked up to the rogue bird, he seriously doubted Jason knew something about this place that he and Bruce didn't, "What?"

"I can tell you right now a child has slept under that garbage dump in the past 2 nights." Jason gestured to the old dumpster, Tim looked too. "See how the dirt is disturbed there? There are no footprints because a body slid under, a kid's stomach sweeping up against the dirt smearing whatever footprints were there. A child could only fit under there_," Or some tires_… "I'm sure if you took the time tonight and hung out here you'd see the kid."

Tim looked like he had been fazed, his expression changing as he had to agree with Jason's reasons. And he was right, Tim hadn't noticed it.

"And there," Jason pointed to some crates, "Looks like someone slept there maybe a week ago, looks like it was a small adult, or perhaps a teen maybe your age."

Time for Jason to go and leave Tim with his thoughts about all this shit.

"So before you fucking judge me, maybe you should take a fucking year of from living in some palace and come live out on the streets. Of course, you'd have to only do things to survive that _a child_ would be able to think of to get the full experience, not something a fucking genius would think of. Now if you excuse me, I have a long walk ahead of me—and no, before you ask, I DO NOT want a ride."

Jason walked back onto the street, and looked back to see Tim still standing there looking at the dumpster. "Later Replacement." With that, Jason headed home, holding a box filled with more of his shitty memories.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been two days.

Two days since Jason arrived home from his little trip down memory lane with Mrs. Walker and _Tim_.

At the moment, Jason could not give a shit about the Falcone case. He was too busy staring at the box set down in front of him on the table. Jason was tapping his fingers impatiently on the surface as he tossed a pair of scissors up and down with his other hand. He had been standing there for the past five hours now, contemplating whether he should cut the duct tap keeping the contents of the box _safe_ from him or through in out the window on the street.

Five hours ago he left to use the washroom, after standing in the exact same spot for three hours. And before that he was pacing around the table for four hours. He hasn't eaten anything or drank anything for those two days. In truth he didn't notice the time past, and the thought about eating didn't cross his mind yet…so he hadn't realized that by now he should be starving for some grub.

Sure, Jason was curious to see what 'adorable picture' Mrs. Walker was referring too, Jason couldn't remember any pictures that were taken of him as a child. He just did not want to risk dragging out old memories that had been long forgotten.

Jason would be lying if he said he could remember _every _shitty thing that has ever happened to him, so to risk remembering the already forgotten shitty things by opening some box? Jason had to think about it.

The last time Mrs. Walker gave him a box full of personal precessions from his old apartment led him to his death. That birth certificate he found in that box led him on worldwide hunt for his birth mother. Who he later learnt was a manipulative bitch who sold him out to the Joker.

But by the time he learnt _that_ it was too late to _correct_ that_ mistake_, and before he knew it the Joker was beating him to death with a crowbar.

Fun times.

Jason grazed the scissors blades lightly over the tape, creating a slight engraving from where he had traced the scissors. Maybe he should just burn it, like hell would this box bring him anything good back into his life. It would sure only give him shitty dreams, or something else to be depressed and angry about.

To hell with it all, not like his life could really get any crappier.

Jason carved through the tape, his heart slowed as he held his breath. He had never been so nervous since the day he met his _family—_aka Grayson, he didn't give a shit about what Bruce thought- again after attacking his Replacement to the point _Tim's_ life was hanging by a thread. Jason skimmed his fingers around the edge of the cardboard lid, one upwards motion of his hand and it would open.

_Dammit Jason it's just a box_. Jason closed his eyes and flipped it opened. No turning back now.

Jason peeped his left eye open and look down at the contents of the box. No ugly memories coming back so far. He opened his right eye and reached his hands in and pulled out a small sweater.

_Okay…? Why would this be worth keeping…?_

It could fit a child about eight years old comfortably. It looked stretched though, like a child had worn it long past its due date. It was faded, tattered and had many holes, most notably in the elbows. Jason never remembered wearing this particular sweater, and could only imagine how desperately cold he would have to be to even consider wearing it. Since well…he could not imagine his child hood self – all masculine and manly – to wear a purple and pink sweater.

Jason sniffed it cautiously, holding it a safe distance from his face. It _smelt_ like the garbage and dirt found at his childhood home. Jason wasn't sure what to make of it, so he folded it and placed it down next to the box before reaching back inside.

He remembered this! His old baseball glove! He found it left outside in a box full of old toys left out for the garbage man to pick up. It was worn down then with some loss stitching, but it still was great to pretend to be a famous baseball player even if he had to play with a tennis ball, but now it seemed it could fall apart if he dropped it. The box of toys he found that day was full of broken-but good shit. He exclaimed his joy of it out loud and many other kids on the street his age had flocked around him and that box and marveled at the wonders inside. By the end of the day the box was empty.

He slipped on the glove careful not to rip the stitching more. It was always too big for him as a child, but maybe now…maybe now it would fit.

Nope, now it was too small.

This box of shitty memories showed no sign of having shitty memories.

Jason had pulled out a _Snakes and Ladders _board, the color on it severely faded and the edges worn. Next was an old mug he had gotten for his mother for mother's day from the thrift store for fifty cents. Then came the tennis ball he used with his glove. A file with some old tax reports. Five dollars- which Jason stashed in his jeans pockets – it was always nice to find some cash. An old pair of pants he use to wear, which was a coincidence that it was just the pair Mrs. Walker washed when he was covered in orange paint. In fact, you could still see the off shade of orange in them.

And below those memory filled pants was a picture. Jason lifted it up carefully and inspected it. It was a picture of him and his mother; it was just before she became depressed and became addicted to cocaine. They were both smiling; her arm was wrapped securely around him.

God, he must have…what- six years old in that picture?

His mother's other arm however, was wrapped around a young girl the same age. The picture of Jason looked just like the girl, and the girl looked just like Jason.

They had the same eyes and smile. Both the cheeks were still chubby—for a poor family—with baby fat. Their hair was both tossed about their tops of their head; both seriously needed a groom over. Naturally her hair was longer, tied up messily in two pony tails.

Her eyes were just as mischievous has Jason's and her smile just as cheeky.

She was wearing the same pink and purple sweater Jason had held up earlier.

And the only thought that Jason had managed to process as he held this picture, was asking his self _Since when in hell did I have a sister?_ They for sure looked like siblings, twins. Only Jason had no memory of her.

He flipped the picture over; two names were written in pen. "_Katherine x 2 - Jason"_

Katherine times two…? So the girl would have to be the second Katherine.

_Katherine_.

Mrs. Walker was right though, the picture itself was quite adorable, and his mother _was_ smiling. Which he also had no memory of. He was smiling; which was never often, and that girl was smiling—whoever _she_ was to him.

_"Oh don't you worry darling, he knew alright. After your poor mother passed away, we were thinking about taking you and poor Katherine in, as foster children."_

Some of the crazy things Mrs. Walker said were starting to make sense, she wasn't crazy, not yet anyways. She just remembered something that _he_ didn't.

_"I knew how close you two were, always standing by each other's side sticking up for the other. You were like two peas in a pod!"_

Two peas in a pod, like twins.

_"I remember that night you came here after those men attacked you on the street attack, oh my god child I was so worried for you, I nearly called an ambulance there was so much blood on you! Thank god Katherine managed to pull you back here!"_

Always standing by each other's side. It seemed like a twinly thing to do.

_"Now, there's the most adorable picture of both you and Katherine in there were you were young. It'll be a little memory for you of her,"_

_When they were young_. This was the picture. When _Katherine_ and _I_ were_ young_. His mother was not young, not in this picture. Could it be this little girl's name was also Katherine?

Whatever she was, a sister or some oddly identical close cousin. She was family, she resembled blood ties for sure and Jason could not for the life of him remember her.

Jason could not remember the second 'pea' in his pod, a family member that stuck up for him.

No memory of her.

Not one.

Zippo.

…

_Holy Shit._

* * *

Jason referenced all the Katherine _Todd'_s to ever live or set foot in Gotham in the past 25 years. He assumed the girl would have had the same last name if they were siblings. He could only hope.

All in all, Jason had spent a total of nine hours, fifty-six minutes and thirty-two seconds collecting data about Katherine Todd's. He found a total of sixteen Katherine Todd's, one including his mother. He was able to eliminate twelve of those Katherine's just by looking at the picture and after he eliminated his mother which left only three Katherine Todd's to be his sister…family…or whatever.

After researching those last three he found out one died at the age twenty-nine last month, but she was too old anyways. The second Katherine that was left use to be named 'Karl Todd'…so sex-change eliminated her…him. The last Katherine however—

Had Jason almost convinced she was the little girl in the photo.

Only it was a fake. The real person behind that ID was named Courtney Thompson, aged eighteen – under the legal drinking age, which explained why she had a faked ID.

After eliminating all the Katherine Todd's, Jason was at a loss, he scoured all hospitals for birth or death notices. He looked up all banks for past or present clients. The foster systems, brokers, library cards, drivers licenses, addresses, rental apartments, hotels, and schools. All of this took an additional three days. He hardly slept, and couldn't be bothered to grab a proper meal.

He had a bag of potato chips.

Sheesh, if only Alfred lived with him.

But he did find one thing near the end, he was able to confirm she was in fact his twin sister, through their school records.

When Jason was young, before he dropped school, he attended Park Row Public School. His _sister_—he would have to get use to calling her that—naturally went to the same school as him. He found both and her's old school records.

Of course the records were…not that 'filled'. Most teachers, principal and student service agents found in schools didn't care how much information was filled out on the registration forms. They only wanted a name and date of birth.

Katherine's file said she was born August 18th the same birthday as him. _So twins_. His mother's and Father's names were written as well. But there was no health card number or social security number, that was one difference, Jason had his health card information on his school forms.

He also found her last report card; fifth grade. She was a bright kid, straight A's, a lot smarter than Jason had been in school.

After grade five though, she went off the map completely and never resurfaced.

_Dammit_.

All he had to go on was a school file from eleven years ago.

Even Batman couldn't figure this out if he tried.

All Jason could do was wait and watch, and Jason hated that.

There had to be something.

Jason glared at his computer screen and stared at the school records and his sister's school photo, there was a noticeable purple blemish on her cheek; a bruise, someone had hit her.

Was probably their good-for-nothing father.

Shit.

* * *

Two week, and Jason had exhausted all options.

Not like he could of many to begin with.

Throughout the nights Jason had ganged up on anybody on the streets and threatened their lives if they answer his question, "_do you know a Katherine Todd?!"_

No one did, even after Jason had held them by the ankles over a 500 feet drop from a building. Jason was starting to become impatient…scratch that,

He lost his patience a long time ago.

It would help if he knew how they became separated. But he didn't.

Two nights ago Tim had called asking if he still wanted to be involved with the Falcone case. He mentioned how they were very close to wrapping it up within a week and the case would be closed completed. Grayson, who arrived home a night prior to Tim's call, had also joined.

Whoop de doo.

So the Replacement, Dick head and Demon Breath were all working on it, _together_. So Jason used that as his excuse for ditching it.

But right now…Jason did not know what else to do.

He was contemplating whether he was desperate enough to approach his _brothers_ for help. Jason was not sure if he could continue to do what he does _probably_ without being distracted by the fact he had a sister, and he had no idea where she was, how she was or even if she was alive.

Jason worked solo, it was his life style. And when it came to his _family_ he never had high expectations. It was better that way. In his line of work, he could not afford to trust anybody other than himself. His line of work was different from his father's and his brother's work. He killed, and he knew they would go out of his way to stop him if he ever 'buddy-up' and work along side with them. Which was why he worked alone.

The only disadvantage of him having independence, was that on the few occasions when he had to reach out for help, it would be that much harder. All things considered Json hated having to ask for help. Especially if he had to ask one of his precious _brothers_.

He would never bring himself to ask Bruce though, Jason would rather take a bullet then ask him for help.

Heck, he would rather take twenty bullets then ask for help from him.

So with Jason's plan already forming – his last plan, the backup plan of all his backup plans—he was just sure glad Bruce was country hoping and nowhere near the manor to get involved with his brothers.

Because Jason was about to do something he _despised_.

Jason took his phone out from his pocket, and scrolled down his contact list.

It took no longer then a second to find the name he was looking for – Jason didn't have many contacts.

Holding it up to his ear, the ringing kept going.

_Come on Dick head….pick up_.

And as if on que…

"_Jaybird you called! I knew you loved me_!"

Jason rolled his eyes, leave it to Grayson to be cheery from hearing from the rogue bird. The family disappointment.

Better get this over with as soon as possible. Just like ripping off a band aid.

Or fixing a dislocated shoulder.

"Listen Dickhead, I need a favour."

He never asked for favours.

He could basically hear Dick smiling at the other end of the phone, "_Really? You want to spend some quality brother time with me? I'd love too!_"

M'god.

"I need you to get one of your magic or telepathy friends to fix my memory."

"_Wait a minute, I'm a two blocks from your apartment, I'll see you in two seconds_."

"What no Grayson! Just—"

The bastard hung up on him!

And not a moment after, the window slide open and Nightwing crawled through. "So whats this about you needing my friends?"

"My memory."

"What about it?"

"Listen _Dick_," Jason advanced on his brother and waved a threatening hand in his face, "tell a soul and don't think I won't put a bullet in your lungs."

Grayson grinned and held up his hands, "I promise not to tell anybody."

Did Dick not know when to be serious?

Wait, stupid question…of course he didn't.

Jason already had a lie made up to his older brother. It was a pretty good one too that Grayson would just melt under. "I- I need," stuttering was always good, he purposely let down his emotional defenses, therefore he still had control of them. "I—well, a while ago—You know I'm not sure about this anymore…"

And just like that Grayson opened his emotions of concern and love for his younger brother. His face was melting with pity and worry, Dick placed his hands on Jason's shoulders "It's alright brother, you can tell me anything, anything at all and I will help you."

_Bastard_. But Jason had Dick just where he needed him.

"I—well soon after I came back from—you know," _the grave_ "I found out about the _replacement._" Jason's tongue spat out the word with disgust, no acting required there. "I was so angry at Bruce, about the kid, the Joker, everything. So I had an old lady—the mystic magically kind you sometimes see—take away any happy memories I had with Bruce—or you…so I could hate him more and hate what you two stood for."

Queue the tears, Dick's eyes were watering. It would only work if Jason made his own eyes water a bit. "So…brother," Jason glanced at Dick, he was eating every word coming from his mouth, especially when Jason called Dick his brother, "I just needed this favour from you – so you could get one of your mystic-magic-telepath friends, to bring me back my memory….so I could remember those happier days with my family."

"Oh Jaybird!" Grayson brought his younger brother into a full out bear hug, not letting go, "I never knew you did that, remember that I, Bruce, Tim and even Damian deep down, love you so so very VERY much. Alfred too, and we'll welcome you back to the manor any time!" Grayson broke apart the hug and looked Jason in the eye, "I'll call up everyone I know to fix your memory. Miss Martian, Zatanna or Zatara, oh! And Martian Manhunter, everyone and before you know it you'll have it all back! I promise."

Jason looked down to his feet to hide his smile, his plan was working all so perfectly. He needed Dick to get the league to help him, Jason could not do it on his own with the entire league weary of the Red Hood. "Thank you Dick."

"We'll both go up to the watchtower tomorrow, Martian Manhunter should surely be there. But you'll have to stay close to me since…well.."

_You're Red Hood_..

"I understand, so tomorrow then?"

"Ya," Grayson was now standing by the window, "I'm sorry Jaybird but I would stay longer…but I promised Damian we'd meet for a patrol together, and I'm already late."

_I never wanted you to stay Dickhead_.

_But I got to keep up the acting,_ "It's cool Dick, but I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't tell anybody else this…"

Grayson nodded, "Cross my heart and hope to die," with that he was gone, leaving the window sill empty.

Only Dick would say something as cheesy as that.

Whatever, Jason was hoping he would gain a new lead about his sister tomorrow. Unfortunately he would have to put with the any leaguers in the Watch Tower.

And his _Brother_.


	9. Chapter 9

They had been in the Watch tower for nearly two hours. J'onn J'onzz had contacted them saying he would see them in twenty minutes in the lunch room. So that's where they were, the two of them standing by the entrance just inside the lunchroom, looking out to all the tables and a few of the leaguers who occupied the seats.

And so far Jason had managed to take all the dirty stares, death glares, and turned stuck-up heads without punching anybody. Jason couldn't really blame anybody for those looks, he did attempt to kill a few members up here…once or twice as Red Hood. But here he was, standing in all his glory, a new leather jacket, hood held under his arm, red mask, gun holstered which he made sure everyone could see; a criminal amongst the world's finest.

It was a good day, there was nothing like ruffling the feathers of these bastards.

But even when he was Robin they never liked him, so no one could look back at any 'good' times and give him the benefit of the doubt. His reputation as Robin was well… rude, brash and obnoxious, and no one liked that. Grayson was next to him though, the leagues beloved little golden boy next to a no-good-criminal, shooting down any odd stares directed towards his younger brother with a glare that matched Batman's.

Dick was well aware that Jason was making himself come off as a boss, a guy who didn't give a shit and had all the power to piss the leaguers off a bit.

And it was working.

But only Dick, who knew Jason for years, could tell that he was tense and flaring frustration. He masked his feelings expertly in front of the league, but never his brother. Masking emotions in front of family was impossible, even if Jason denied any 'family ties' with the Bat clan.

"Dude its ok."

Jason eye's pierced right through him. No, it was definitely _not_ okay! They were standing in the cafeteria of the Justice League of America. Jason was no ally to them_, no one_ saw him as that, and it was clear no one wanted him here.

Seriously, they should learn to cover their expressions. Was it really only Ba-Gotham oriented heroes who did that?

"They'll warm up to you."

How _stupid_ was Dick?! Jason cackled and covered his mouth with his hand pretending to be stunned; which raised a few heads of the leaguers at the sudden movement. "Why! Of course standing here for two hours would create such an impact in their hearts to change their mind about me for the better!"

Grayson smiled and shrugged, "Hey? At least they haven't attack you yet."

Jason huffed to blow his white strand of hair out of his face, "Pfft, ya _physically_." Despite the lack of super hearing, Jason heard the whispers behind his back. Dick did too, but the only thing he could do without putting Jason in the spot to begin attacking everyone was to stand by, watch and hold his ground. "And looks like you spoke too soon…"

Hawkman and Green Arrow were approaching them.

Grayson bowed his head slightly to cover up his voice, "Just stay cool Jason, k?" Regaining his proper posture, Grayson beamed his signature smile, "Hey Hawkman, Green Arrow! How are things?"

"We want to know what this _rogue_ is doing here." Hawkman tapped the handle of his axe holstered to his belt.

"Ya," Green Arrow piped up, "We don't allow criminals in the tower, even _former_ 'allies' of the bat."

"Gentlemen," Grayson still was smiling, _better to reassure them with a smile_… "Reds' with me right now, is that not enough for you to trust him at the moment?"

Hawkman grimaced, bearing his teeth, "No it is **not**. It's been discussed among the heroes here and we want him _out_."

Jason rolled up his toes, "you mean **_nattered_** beneath your breath. I'm tired of the shit you leaguers keep giving me; I'm not here to _hurt_ anybody!" Jason snarled.

Green arrow poked a finger at Jason, "Why you lit—" But before the poke hit Jason's chest, Grayson was in-between them a firm hand on Jason's chest holding him back, his smile was gone and his bat-serious glare in its place.

"**_Gentlemen_**, this is my _brother._ And if you can't trust him then trust me, or leave the room if you're too scared to look the Red Hood—my _brother_- in the eye. We're here on some serious _family_ matters, and I'm sure members in our _family_ would not _hesitate_ to come up here and make sure we get the information we need."

"Damn Straight." Jason felt the need to contribute to the end of the lovely – surprising—speech from Dick. He didn't think Dick had it in him to successfully stand up to two very well rooted members of the league. _And that glare_, it was something to be envious of.

Hawkman looked Grayson right in the eye, "_Fine_" he spat out, "You win this one Nightwing, but don't let your guard down, we'll be getting this immoral _thing_ off our ship before this day is gone. Come on Green Arrow, let's get out of here."

Dick held his hand more firmly on Jason's chest as he saw Jason was going to make his move. "Be the bigger man Jaybird." He whispered, "Don't let them get to you or they'll win."

Jason halted from aggressively trying to walk _through_ his brother's hand. Jason scoffed and clenched his fists, "ya right, they're bastards, the whole lot of 'em"

Dick gave a reassuring smile, "They can be a bit hard to deal with, I'll give you that. But hey, there's Martian Manhunter now, let's go meet up with him."

Jason grunted and followed Grayson's lead.

J'onn gave a friendly smiled as the two draw near, "Hello boys, I'm sorry I'm late. What as it you needed my assistance for?"

Grayson shook J'onn's hand "It's no problem J'onn, we didn't mind. This is my young brother, he's the one who needs your help." Grayson gestured to Jason, who grunted at the introduction.

J'onn nodded, "ah the notorious Red Hood, I've heard about you from…others. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Jason scowled, he really was no longer in the mood for this, "Like wise. Now if there is anywhere we talk more _privately_…" Jason discretely looked over to his shoulder to see Green Arrow and Hawkman were waiting patiently across the room to make their move.

"Erm ya J'onn," Dick signalled to the door, "some of the leaguers aren't comfortable with the Red Hood here…"

J'onn gave a quirt nod, "Then by all means, please follow me."

Exiting the cafeteria, they made their way through the hall, windows panned the left side looking out to the stars. Earth could be seen, but it was about the size of a small plate being held up to your face at arm's length. Clouds enclosed the Earth like a security blanket for a child, buffering the earth from the dangers of space to the safety of its ground. Of course, if there was an alien evasion the clouds would pose no obstacles to whatever mother-fucking ships they flew on.

The obstacle would be this satellite Jason was standing on right now. The heroes on bound would be shitting their pants—not in fear—but in rage. They were a bunch of stubborn old fools who would never give up without a good fight…which would HAVE to result in a victory for them, because the bloody bastards would never back down.

Jason had to hand it to them though, the view was remarkable.

"So Nightwing, what was it your brother needed my assistance for?"

Pfft, that was irritating, he—Jason- was walking right _next_ to the guy and the alien addressed Grayson instead!

But J'onn must have read Jason's frustration and compressed anger at his actions, "Please excuse me…Red Hood, I should have asked you in view of that it is _you_, asking for help."

That was better…Still Jason was still a bit peeved.

"There are some…memories I would like back. I was hoping…" _praying_… "you would be able to 'recover' them."

If this Martian Manhunter couldn't fix his head so he could get a new lead, Jason had no idea what he could do. Heck, he might just tell his 'family' the fact he did have a sister in hopes they would help him overturn Gotham looking for her.

He knew Dick would help, that was for certain. He would probably wish that by helping Jason find his sister that Jason would return home. Obviously, Jason would never EVER do that once he did find his sister, heck he would keep her hundred miles away from that freak how.

Dick would probably convince the Demon to help him too, for 'old times' sake as they would team up as they did when they were Batman and Robin.

Tim…might help…for a week. But it wouldn't surprise Jason if Tim said the chances of finding her were none to nothing.

It was something _Bruce_ would say.

Bruce would just turn his head, the stalwart egotist.

"I sense your worry, no need to fear Red Hood, I can help." Martian Manhunter stopped, "Just right this way, this is my special room, there are no camera's or recording devices in here."

J'onn made his way through; Grayson paused at the door and looked at Jason. They had a small _silent_ conversation.

_You are worried?_

Jason mock a snort and kept it quiet, _Shut the fuck up_.

Grayson held his hands up in defense and grinned, allowing Jason to go through. Before Jason completely entered he paused and looked back to his brother. "Stay here and wait." He walked through alone and closed the door in Dick's confused face.

Martian Manhunter turned around, "You would prefer to this alone?"

"Yes,"

"I apologize but there is no furniture for you to lie down on, you'll have to take the floor."

Jason took to the floor and shuffled to get comfortable, better get this shit down fast.

"Now before I begin, it might be a bit over whelming considering your…death… so I'll have to wake you up, only I wouldn't be able to try to revive your memories again without causing serious damage."

"Fine." _Just hurry it up already.._

"Now close your eyes…and I'll begin."

Jason did as he was told, and no sooner did his world turn upside down.


End file.
